Litchfield enquirer., 1867-06-20

tish than usual She was also very kind to us on those days: we had cakes and sweet meats for lunch, and made sort of gala day of it.
 But if my father came and little Fanchette was unacconntablyabsen then
 I saw that Madame grew uneasy as the morning waned, and her uneasiness re- fected itself in me. We spent the interye- ming time between lessons, in walking down to the gate, and glancing mp and down the road for the fngi!ives. Madame had saintly patience with that childish old grandmother, but 1t gave way as the day i,assed, and no signs of them appear ed
 q will go out, said she Sophie and take a walk along the shore. Doubtless they are there among the shells"
 Madame walked thoughtfully along the shore, while less anxious, strolled on, fiinging pebbles into the water. The tile was rising; nearer and near came the creep ing waves; they wetted my feet; they drove me further and further from the beach to- ward the line of rocks overhanging it.
 Just then, where the water and the rocks met, and tangled mass of scraggy, wild growth overhung the steep ascent, I caught glimpse, just above my head, of some red, glittering object, and parting the bush es, there lay Fanchette asleep, her rosy face pressed against the stones. Adanger- ous sleep in such chamber when the tide was rising.
 Madame! Madame!" I cried, ''I have found herr
 Madame came quickly back; she stretch ed up her round, strong arms, and caught the child hastily down from it's eyrie. She %,1rr hop v-i& 5l,7ri, all the long walk, either to Fanchette or me.
 As we reached the cottage gate, who should look up from the porch, and smil- ing, knock the ashes from her pipe, but the old grandmother.
 "Ah, ahaW said she, cunningly, eyein g Madame with that half fearing, half def ant expression which I have seen in the eyes of animals when doubtful of their masters intention towards them. Ah, yes! too hot, too hot, you see, to bring the little one home. Grandmother only left her to cool a little!''
 To cool! If Fanchette had not happen ed to wear her red dress, she might have been cooling under the waves tonight, thought to myself.
 It seemed, however, that Fanchette had strolled away from the old woman, who, in her bewilderment at losing her, and terror of Madame Rosine, had thought of no bet ter way to shield herself than to deny the fact
 Fanchette, all curled and smiling, was ready to be brought in, when my father, immediately on his arrival, asked for his favorite child
 We said nothing about her recent adven- ture.
 q so hate to disturb your dear father, Sophie," said the complacent Madame, ''he has already so much on his mind"
 Madame waited assiduously upon my father on these days, spread his hot bis cult with her own dainty fingers, and show, cd him an attention which my own sweet mother never did; but I think my father liked it. We were little half-orphans. for my mother had died in giving birth tC Fanchette, but Madame often declared she felt like mother to us. Madame was alone in the world.
 Monsieur" said she, sweetly, on the day of my fathers visit, II am alone; am very sad; but feel sure that the good God watches over me and the dear old la- dy. What else should become of us, two poor, lone waifs by the sea-shorer
 Madame was alone in the world, but she owned the little cottage, or would own il on grandmother's death, and snug <ittle sum in the bank, 1t was said.
 My father looked into the lady's eyes and smiled wien she said that so pathetically and I heard him call her Rosine.
 The sunshine streamed over her and lit. tie Fanchette, who, wearied with her re cent exploits, curled herself up in Mad ame's loving arms, and fell fast asleep. 4 very sweet picture it made, and as my father had something of an artist eye, no doubt it pleased him.
 The next day as I walked in the garden l saw the old grandmother sitting solitary upon a stone; she did not lift her eyes nol kept her foolish old face like foggy sun shine was all gone out; she looked gray and wrinkled, and sullen.
 did not dare to speak to the old woman when she was in this mood, and strolled or through the garden among the fallen leaves Presently as I stopped among a clump O. flowers to gather low forgetme-not, heard another footstep rustic the faller leaves, and Madame passed swiftly with out seeing me.
 She was evidently looking for her grand mother. I heard her utter low exclama tion when she came upon the wretched ob ject sitting there alone. Oh, but this was trying old woman! and Madame certain ly had saintly patience with her!
 trembled in my hiding place when heard Madame's voice speaking sternly anc gravely in French; so severely had nev CT heard her voice sound before, but did not catch the words.
 As I passed out again when the con versation ceased, the old woman stll sat crouching on her stone; her face hat a cowed, scared look, and she shrunl away from me.
 She continued thus sullen and solita " for days, occasionally varying. hel grimness by flight to the sea-shore whence she would have to be brought home by the maid-servant, or by Mad ame herself Or she would sit for long monotonous hours in the doorway, ne ther knitting nor smoking, as was hel l wont.
 The children summed her; by oneleal . their old favorite had taken herself out of the cheery little circle of their lives, and become thing mysterious and apart Not child came up to her for kiss, or to show her new primer, or bring her flower to smell they eyed her askance and walk ed away.
 Certainly this old woman, growing into