pudding is delicious," said Genestas.

"Then what will you say to her coffee and cream?" cried Benassis.

"I would rather hear our pretty hostess talk."

"You did not put that nicely, Genestas," said Benassis. He took La
Fosseuse's hand in his and pressed it as he went on: "Listen, my child;
there is a kind heart hidden away beneath that officer's stern exterior,
and you can talk freely before him. We do not want to press you to talk,
do not tell us anything unless you like: but if ever you can be listened
to and understood, poor little one, it will be by the three who are with
you now at this moment. Tell us all about your love affairs in the
old days, that will not admit us into any of the real secrets of your
heart."

"Here is Mariette with the coffee," she answered, "and as soon as you
are all served, I will tell about my 'love affairs' very willingly. But
M. le Commandant will not forget his promise?" she added, challenging
the officer with a shy glance.

"That would be impossible, mademoiselle," Genestas answered
respectfully.

"When I was sixteen years old," La Fosseuse began, "I had to beg my
bread on the roadside in Savoy, though my health was very bad. I used to
sleep at Echelles, in a manger full of straw. The innkeeper who gave me
shelter was kind, but his wife could not abide me, and was always saying
hard things. I used to feel very miserable; for though I was a beggar,
I was not a naughty child; I used to say my prayers every night and
morning, I never stole anything, and I did as Heaven bade me in begging
for my living, for there was nothing that I could turn my hands to, and
I was really unfit for work--quite unable to handle a hoe or to wind
spools of cotton.

"Well, they drove me away from the inn at last; a dog was the cause of
it all. I had neither father nor mother nor friends. I had met with no
one, ever since I was born, whose eyes had any kindness in them for me.
Morin, the old woman who had brought me up, was dead. She had been very
good to me, but I cannot remember that she ever petted me much; besides,
she worked out in the fields like a man, poor thing; and if she fondled
me at times, she also used to rap my fingers with the spoon if I ate the
soup too fast out of the porringer we had between us. Poor old woman,
never a day passes but I remember her in my prayers! If it might please
God to let her live a happier life up there than she did here below!
And, above all things, if she mig