'I really don't know anything of his will. If papa has made one, he has
never spoken of it to me. I know he loves me--that is enough.'

'Ah! you are not such little goose--you do know everything, of course. Come
tell me, little obstinate, otherwise I will break your little finger. Tell
me everything.'

'I know nothing of papa's will. You don't know, Madame, how you hurt me.
Let us speak of something else.'

'You do know, and you must tell, petite dure-tête, or I will break a your
little finger.'

With which words she seized that joint, and laughing spitefully, she
twisted it suddenly back. I screamed while she continued to laugh.

'Will you tell?'

'Yes, yes! let me go,' I shrieked.

She did not release it immediately however, but continued her torture and
discordant laughter. At last she finally released my finger.

'So she is going to be good cheaile, and tell everything to her
affectionate gouvernante. What do you cry for, little fool?'

'You've hurt me very much--you have broken my finger,' I sobbed.

'Rub it and blow it and give it a kiss, little fool! What cross girl! I