died away, shut off by the
closing of the door. Then she sat down again, to wait, her hands tightly
clasped, and her clear eyes gleaming with the intensity of her thoughts.
Desiree, who was lying at her feet, gazed up at her with innocent
admiration.

'How beautiful you are!' she whispered. 'You are like an image that
Serge used to have in his bedroom. It was quite white like you are, with
great curls floating about the neck; and the heart was quite bare and
uncovered, just in the place where I can feel yours beating---- But
you are not listening to me. You are looking quite sad. Let us play at
something? Will you?'

Then she stopped short, holding her breath and saying between her teeth:
'Ah! the wretches! they will get us caught!' She still had her apron
full of herbage with her, and her pets were taking it by assault. A
troop of fowls had surrounded her, clucking and calling each other, and
pecking at the hanging green stuff. The goat pushed its head slyly under
her arm, and began to eat the longer leaves. Even the cow, which was
tethered to the wall, strained at its cord and poked out its nose,
kissing her with its warm breath.

'Oh! you thieves!' cried Desiree. 'But this is for the rabbits, not for
you! Leave me alone, won't you! You, there, will get your ears boxed, if
you don't go away! And you too will have your tail pulled if I catch you
at it again. The wretches! they will be eating my hands soon!'

She drove the goat off, dispersed the fowls with her feet, and tapped
the cow's nose with her fists. But the creatures just shook themselves,
and then came back more greedily than ever, surrounding her, jumping
on her, and tearing open her apron. At this she whispered to Albine, as
though she were afraid the animals might hear her.

'Aren't they amusing, the dears? Watch them eat.'

Albine looked on with a grave expression.

'Now, now, be good,' resumed Desiree; 'you shall all have some, but you
must wait your turns. Now, big Lisa, you first. Eh! how fond you are of
plantain, aren't you?'

Big Lisa was the cow. She slowly munched a handful of the juicy leaves
which had grown beside Abbe Caffin's tomb. A thread of saliva hung down
from her mouth, and her great brown eyes shone with quiet enjoyment.

'There! now it's your turn,' continued Desiree, turning towards the
goat. 'You are fond of poppies, I know; and you like the flowers best,
don't you? The buds that shine in your teeth like red-hot butterflies!