infully repressed by the cold
greeting of her cousins. If Brittany had been full of outward misery, at
least it was full of love. The old Lorrains were the most incapable
of merchants, but they were also the most loving, frank, caressing, of
friends, like all who are incautious and free from calculation. Their
little granddaughter had received no other education at Pen-Hoel than
that of nature. Pierrette went where she liked, in a boat on the pond,
or roaming the village and the fields with Jacques Brigaut, her comrade,
exactly as Paul and Virginia might have done. Petted by everybody, free
as air, they gaily chased the joys of childhood. In summer they ran to
watch the fishing, they caught the many-colored insects, they gathered
flowers, they gardened; in winter they made slides, they built snow-men
or huts, or pelted each other with snowballs. Welcomed by all, they met
with smiles wherever they went.

When the time came to begin their education, disasters came, too.
Jacques, left without means at the death of his father, was apprenticed
by his relatives to a cabinet-maker, and fed by charity, as Pierrette
was soon to be at Saint-Jacques. Until the little girl was taken with
her grandparents to that asylum, she had known nothing but fond caresses
and protection from every one. Accustomed to confide in so much love,
the little darling missed in these rich relatives, so eagerly desired,
the kindly looks and ways which all the world, even strangers and the
conductors of the coaches, had bestowed upon her. Her bewilderment,
already great, was increased by the moral atmosphere she had entered.
The heart turns suddenly cold or hot like the body. The poor child
wanted to cry, without knowing why; but being very tired she went to
sleep.

The next morning, Pierrette being, like all country children, accustomed
to get up early, was awake two hours before the cook. She dressed
herself, stepping on tiptoe about her room, looked out at the little
square, started to go downstairs and was struck with amazement by the
beauties of the staircase. She stopped to examine all its details:
the painted walls, the brasses, the various ornamentations, the window
fixtures. Then she went down to the garden-door, but was unable to open
it, and returned to her room to wait until Adele should be stirring. As
soon as the woman went to the kitchen Pierrette flew to the garden and
took possession of it, ran to the river, was amazed at the kiosk, and