softened to the ear, mingled with the low rush of the stream,
and the ceaseless ringing of the hammers in the village
forges.

Horace had not sat there above ten minutes, and was debating
whether--his Belgian friend notwithstanding--a stroll along the
river-bank would not be a pleasanter termination to his
evening than a return to the dancing, when he saw a small
figure appear in the hall doorway, stand a moment as is
irresolute, and then come slowly across the courtyard towards
him. As she came near he recognised little Madelon. She pauses
when she was within a yard or two of him, and stood
contemplating him with her hands clasped behind her back.

"So you have come out too," he said.

"_Mais oui--tout ce tapage m'agace les nerfs_," answered the
child, pushing her hair off her forehead with one of her old-
fashioned little gestures, and then standing motionless as
before, her hands behind her, and her eyes fixed on Graham.
Somehow he felt strangely attracted by this odd little child,
with her quaint vehement ways and speeches, who stood gazing
at him with a look half _farouche_, half confiding, in her great
brown eyes.

"Monsieur," she began, at last.

"Well," said Graham.

"Monsieur, I _would_ like to see the little green fish. May I