The sound of the brave little voice was very comforting to the two
mothers hovering about her, and Jack said, with a look of mingled
pity and admiration, as he brandished his crutch over the
imaginary foes,--

"That's right! Sing away, and we'll play you are an Indian captive
being tormented by your enemies, and too proud to complain. I'll
watch the clock, and the minute time is up I'll rush in and rescue
you."

Jill laughed, but the fancy pleased her, and she straightened herself
out under the gay afghan, while she sang, in a plaintive voice,
another little French song her father taught her:--

"J'avais une colombe blanche,
J'avais un blanc petit pigeon,
Tous deux volaient, de branche en branche,
Jusqu'au faîte de mon dongeon:
Mais comme un coup de vent d'automne,
S'est abattu là, l'épervier,
Et ma colombe si mignonne
Ne revient plus au colombier."

"My poor Jean had a fine voice, and always hoped the child would
take after him. It would break his heart to see her lying there trying
to cheer her pain with the songs he used to sing her to sleep with,"
said Mrs. Pecq, sadly.

"She really has a great deal of talent, and when she is able she