ke under her protection this poor lost
child. She loved her already because of the affection the little one
seemed to entertain for Ourson and because of the happiness Ourson's
whole manner expressed on seeing himself loved by some one else than his
mother and Passerose.

It was now the hour for supper. Passerose laid the cloth and they all
took their seats at the table. Violette asked to be put at Ourson's
side. She was gay and laughed and talked merrily. Ourson was more happy
than he had ever been. Agnella was contented, and Passerose jumped for
joy on seeing a little playmate for her dear Ourson. In her transports
she spilled a pan of cream which was not lost, however, as a cat came
and licked it up to the last drop. After supper, Violette fell asleep in
her chair.

"Where shall we lay her?" said Agnella. "I have no bed for her."

"Give her mine, dear mamma," said Ourson; "I can sleep quite as well in
the stable."

Agnella and Passerose at first refused but Ourson insisted so much upon
being allowed to make this little sacrifice, that they at last
consented. Passerose carried Violette still sleeping in her arms,
undressed her without awaking her and laid her quietly in Ourson's bed,
near that of Agnella. Ourson went to sleep in the stable on the bundles
of hay. He slept peacefully with content in his heart.

Passerose rejoined Agnella in the parlor. She found her meditating, with
her head resting on her hand.

"Of what are you thinking, dear queen?" said she; "your eyes are sad,
your lips do not smile. I am come to show you the bracelets of the
little stranger. This medallion ought to open but I have tried in vain
to open it. Perhaps we shall find here a portrait or a name."

"Give it to me, my child. These bracelets are beautiful; they may aid
us, perhaps, in finding a resemblance which presents itself vaguely to
my remembrance and which I am trying in vain to make clear."

Agnella took the bracelets and turned them from side to side and pressed
them in every way, trying to open the medallion, but she succeeded no
better than Passerose had done.

At the moment when, weary of her vain efforts, she returned them to
Passerose, she saw in the middle of the room a woman glittering as the
sun; her face was of dazzling whiteness, her hair seemed made of threads
of gold and a crown of glittering stars adorned her brow. Her waist was
small and her person seemed transparent, it was so delicate and
luminous; her flo