, and the servants of
Madame Deberle. To these succeeded five empty mourning carriages. And
as the hearse passed along the sunny street like a car symbolical of
springtide, a number of white pigeons wheeled over the mourners'
heads.

"Good heavens! how annoying!" exclaimed Madame Deberle when she saw
the procession start off. "If only Henri had postponed that
consultation! I told him how it would be!"

She did not know what to do with Helene, who remained prostrate on a
seat in the pavilion. Henri might have stayed with her and afforded
her some consolation. His absence was a horrible nuisance. Luckily,
Mademoiselle Aurelie was glad to offer her services; she had no liking
for such solemn scenes, and while watching over Helene would be able
to attend to the luncheon which had to be prepared ere the children's
return. So Juliette hastened after the funeral, which was proceeding
towards the church by way of the Rue de Passy.

The garden was now deserted; a few workmen only were folding up the
hangings. All that remained on the gravelled path over which Jeanne
had been carried were the scattered petals of a camellia. And Helene,
suddenly lapsing into loneliness and stillness, was thrilled once more
with the anguish of this eternal separation. Once again--only once
again!--to be at her darling's side! The never-fading thought that
Jeanne was leaving her in anger, with a face that spoke solely of
gloomy hatred, seared her heart like a red-hot iron. She well divined
that Mademoiselle Aurelie was there to watch her, and cast about for
some opportunity to escape and hasten to the cemetery.

"Yes, it's a dreadful loss," began the old maid, comfortably seated in
an easy-chair. "I myself should have worshipped children, and little
girls in particular. Ah, well! when I think of it I am pleased that I
never married. It saves a lot of grief!"

It was thus she thought to divert the mother. She chatted away about
one of her friends who had had six children; they were now all dead.
Another lady had been left a widow with a big lad who struck her; he
might die, and there would be no difficulty in comforting her. Helene
appeared to be listening to all this; she did not stir, but her whole
frame quivered with impatience.

"You are calmer now," said Mademoiselle Aurelie, after a time. "Well,
in the end we always have to get the better of our feelings."

The dining-room communicated with the Japanese pavilion, and, rising
up, the ol