ken from a dream.

"And where's Jeanne?" she asked.

"Oh! she has been very good, madame. I even think she must have fallen
asleep, for I haven't heard her for some time."

"Haven't you given her a light?"

Embarrassment closed Rosalie's lips; she was unwilling to relate that
Zephyrin had brought her some pictures which had engrossed her
attention. Mademoiselle had never made the least stir, so she could
scarcely have wanted anything. Helene, however, paid no further heed
to her, but ran into the room, where a dreadful chill fell upon her.

"Jeanne! Jeanne!" she called.

No answer broke the stillness. She stumbled against an arm-chair. From
the dining-room, the door of which she had left ajar, some light
streamed across a corner of the carpet. She felt a shiver come over
her, and she could have declared that the rain was falling in the
room, with its moist breath and continuous streaming. Then, on turning
her head, she at once saw the pale square formed by the open window
and the gloomy grey of the sky.

"Who can have opened this window?" she cried. "Jeanne! Jeanne!"

Still no answering word. A mortal terror fell on Helene's heart. She
must look out of this window; but as she felt her way towards it, her
hands lighted on a head of hair--it was Jeanne's. And then, as Rosalie
entered with a lamp, the child appeared with blanched face, sleeping
with her cheek upon her crossed arms, while the big raindrops from the
roof splashed upon her. Her breathing was scarcely perceptible, so
overcome she was with despair and fatigue. Among the lashes of her
large, bluey eyelids there were still two heavy tears.

"The unhappy child!" stammered Helene. "Oh, heavens! she's icy cold!
To fall asleep there, at such a time, when she had been expressly
forbidden to touch the window! Jeanne, Jeanne, speak to me; wake up,
Jeanne!"

Rosalie had prudently vanished. The child, on being raised in her
mother's embrace, let her head drop as though she were unable to shake
off the leaden slumber that had seized upon her. At last, however, she
raised her eyelids; but the glare of the lamp dazzled her, and she
remained benumbed and stupid.

"Jeanne, it's I! What's wrong with you? See, I've just come back,"
said Helene.

But the child seemingly failed to understand her; in her stupefaction
she could only murmur: "Oh! Ah!"

She gazed inquiringly at her mother, as though she failed to recognize
her. And suddenly she shivered, growing consc