iselle Perrot came
up to her and said, 'Ah! Madame, you may well wonder! I never saw Maitre
Benoit there so cross; the poor man did but offer to sell little Fanchon
the elizir that secures a good husband, and old Benoit descended on
him like a griffin enraged, would scarce give him time to compute his
charges or pack his wares, but hustled him forth like a mere thief! And
I missed my bargain for that muffler that had so taken my fancy. But,
Madame, he spoke to me apart, and said you were an old customer of his,
and that rather than the little angel should suffer with her teeth,
which surely threaten convulsions, he would leave with you this
sovereign remedy of sweet syrup--a spoonful to be given each night.'

Eustacie took the little flask. She was much inclined to give the syrup
by way of precaution, as well as to assure herself that she was not
under the Duchess's dominion; but some strong instinct of the truth of
the lady's words that the child was safer and healthier undoctored,
made her resolve at least to defer it until the little one showed any
perilous symptom. And as happily Rayonette only showed two little white
teeth, and much greater good-humour, the syrup was nearly forgotten,
when, a fortnight after, the Duchess received a dispatch from her son
which filled her with the utmost indignation. The courier had
indeed arrived, but the packet had proved to be filled with hay and
waste-paper. And upon close examination, under the lash, the courier had
been forced to confess to having allowed himself to be overtaken by the
pedlar, and treated by him to a supper at a _cabaret_. No doubt,
while he was afterwards asleep, the contents of his packet had been
abstracted. There had been important documents for the Duke besides
Eustacie's letters, and the affair greatly annoyed the Duchess, though
she had the compensation of having been proved perfectly right in her
prejudice against pedlars, and her dislike of her son's courier. She
sent for Eustacie to tell her privately of the loss, and of course the
young mother at once turned pale and exclaimed, 'The wicked one! Ah!
what a blessing that I gave my little darling none of his dose!'

'_Hein_? You had some from him then!' demanded the Duchess with
displeasure.

'No, Madame, thanks, thanks to you. Oh! I never will be self-willed and
naughty again. Forgive me, Madame.' And down she dropped on her knee,
with clasped hands and glistening eyes.

'Forgive you, silly child,