said, offering to rise, but Therese held
out a detaining hand.

"You don't want to go and sit alone in the cottage; stay here with me
till Mr. Hosmer comes back from the mill."

Gregoire's face was a study. Melicent, who did what she wanted with
him, had chosen this afternoon, for some inscrutable reason, to make
him happy. He carried her shawl and parasol; she herself bearing a
veritable armful of flowers, leaves, red berried sprigs, a tangle of
richest color. They had been in the woods and she had bedecked him
with garlands and festoons of autumn leaves, till he looked a very
Satyr; a character which his flushed, swarthy cheeks, and glittering
animal eyes did not belie.

They were laughing immoderately, and their whole bearing still
reflected their exuberant gaiety as they joined Therese and Fanny.

"What a 'Mater Dolorosa' Fanny looks!" exclaimed Melicent, throwing
herself into a picturesque attitude on the bench beside Therese, and
resting her feet on Hector's broad back.

Fanny offered no reply, but to look helplessly resigned; an expression
which Melicent knew of old, and which had always the effect of
irritating her. Not now, however, for the curve of the bench around
the great cedar tree removed her from the possibility of contemplating
Fanny's doleful visage, unless she made an effort to that end, which
she was certainly not inclined to do.

"No, Gregoire," she said, flinging a rose into his face when he would
have seated himself beside her, "go sit by Fanny and do something to
make her laugh; only don't tickle her; David mightn't like it. And
here's Mrs. Lafirme looking almost as glum. Now, if David would only
join us with that 'pale cast of thought' that he bears about usually,
what a merry go round we'd have."

"When Melicent looks at the world laughing, she wants it to laugh back
at her," said Therese, reflecting something of the girl's gaiety.

"As in a looking-glass, well isn't that square?" she returned, falling
into slang, in her recklessness of spirit.

Endeavoring to guard her treasure of flowers from Therese, who was
without ceremony making a critical selection among them of what
pleased her, Melicent slid around the bench, bringing herself close to
Gregoire and begging his protection against the Vandalism of his aunt.
She looked into his eyes for an instant as though asking him for love
instead of so slight a favor and he grasped her arm, pressing it till
she cried out from the pain: whic