equal in strength and in ignorance,--Bébée filled the delf pot anew
carefully, then knelt down on the turf in that little green corner, and
prayed in devout hopeful childish good faith to the awful unknown Powers
who were to her only as gentle guides and kindly playmates.

Was she too familiar with the Holy Mother?

She was almost fearful that she was; but then the Holy Mother loved
flowers so well, Bébée would not feel aloof from her, nor be afraid.

"When one cuts the best blossoms for her, and tries to be good, and never
tells a lie," thought Bébée, "I am quite sure, as she loves the lilies,
that she will never altogether forget me."

So she said to the Mother of Christ fearlessly, and nothing doubting; and
then rose for her daily work of cutting the flowers for the market in
Brussels.

By the time her baskets were full, her fowls fed, her goat foddered, her
starling's cage cleaned, her hut door locked, and her wooden shoes
clattering on the sunny road into the city, Bébée was almost content
again, though ever and again, as she trod the familiar ways, the tears
dimmed her eyes as she remembered that old Antoine would never again
hobble over the stones beside her.

"You are a little wilful one, and too young to live alone," said Father
Francis, meeting her in the lane.

But he did not scold her seriously, and she kept to her resolve; and the
women, who were good at heart, took her back into favor again; and so