ame up to the stone basin, each with a
pitcher to fill; they were a long time about it, for what
would be pleasanter, on this hot summer morning, than to stand
dabbling one's fingers in the cool water? Madelon watched them
till she became possessed with an irresistible desire to do
the same. It was only a few steps off, and though she was
strictly forbidden by her father ever to go out alone, still--
she had so seldom an opportunity of being naughty, that her
present consciousness of disobedience rather added, perhaps,
to the zest of the adventure. She would go just for this once--
and in another moment she was out in the street. The little
boy and girl fled with full pitchers as she came up to the
fountain, suddenly awakened to a sense of the waste of time in
which they had been indulging; but that made no difference to
Madelon; she stood gazing with mute admiration at the open-
mouthed monsters, from whose wide jaws the water trickled into
the basin below; and then she held her hands to catch the
drops till they were quite cold, and thought it the best play
she had ever known. By-the-by, however, she began to look
about her in search of further excitement, and, emboldened by
success, turned the corner of the street, and ventured out of
sight of the hotel. On one side large _portes-cocheres_ at
intervals, shutting in the white, green-shuttered houses, that
appeared beyond; on the other a long, high, blank wall, with
nothing to be seen above it, and one small arched doorway
about half-way down. This was the shady side; and Madelon,
crossing over to it, arrived at the arched door, and stood for
a moment contemplating it, wondering what could be inside.

She was not left long in doubt, for two priests crossed the
road, and pushed open the door, without seeing the child, who,
urged by a spirit of curiosity, crept unnoticed after them,
and suddenly found herself in a cloister, running round a
quadrangle, on one side of which rose the walls and spires and
buttresses of a great church; in the centre a carefully kept
space of smooth grass. Madelon stood for a moment motionless
with delight; it reminded her of a scene in some opera or play
to which she had been in Paris with her father, but, oh! how
much more beautiful, and all real! The sunlight streamed
through the tracery of the cloisters, and fell chequered with
sharp shadows on the pavement; the bright blue sky was crossed
with pinnacles and spires, and there was an ec