tchedness and misery it cost us,--ay, may still
occasion us. Ah, that unfortunate loss of the diamond, what have we not
suffered by it!"

As the poor lapidary uttered these words, he passed his hand over his
aching brow with a desponding air, and said to one of the children:

"Felix, give your mother something to drink. You are awake, and can
attend to her."

"No, no," exclaimed Madeleine; "he will take cold. I will wait."

"Oh, mother," said the boy, rising, "never mind me. I shall be quite as
warm up as I am in this _paillasse_."

"Come, will you let the things alone?" cried Morel, in a threatening
tone, to the idiot woman, who kept bending over the precious stones and
trying to seize them, spite of all his efforts to move her from the
table.

"Mother," called out Felix, "what shall I do? The water in the pitcher
is frozen quite hard."

"Then break the ice," murmured Madeleine.

"It is so thick, I can't," answered the boy.

"Morel!" exclaimed Madeleine, in a querulous and impatient tone, "since
there is nothing but water for me to drink, let me at least have a
draught of that! You are letting me die with thirst!"

"God of heaven grant me patience!" cried the unfortunate man. "How can I
leave your mother to lose and destroy these stones? Pray let me manage
her first."

But the lapidary found it no easy matter to get rid of the idiot, who,
beginning to feel irritated at the constant opposition she met with,
gave utterance to her displeasure in a sort of hideous growl.

"Call her, wife!" said Morel. "She will attend to you sometimes."

"Mother! mother!" called Madeleine, "go to bed, and be good, and then
you shall have some of that nice coffee you are so fond of!"

"I want that! and that! There! there!" replied the idiot, making a
desperate effort this time to possess herself of a heap of rubies she
particularly coveted. Morel firmly, but gently, repulsed her,--all in
vain; with pertinacious obstinacy the old woman kept struggling to break
from his grasp, and snatch the bright gems, on which she kept her eyes
fixed with eager fondness.

"You will never manage her," said Madeleine, "unless you frighten her
with the whip; there is no other means of making her quiet."

"I am afraid not," returned Morel; "but, though she has no sense, it yet
goes to my heart to be obliged to threaten an old woman, like her, with
the whip."

Then, addressing the old woman, who was trying to bite him, and whom he
was hold