breakfast and I will help you dress--"


Felicia snuggled under the covers and nibbled her toast hungrily.

"Yesterday," she confided, "I was unhappy; it seemed too far to come--
I was afraid, from something Marthy said, that I wasn't going to find
Maman--she said I mustn't set my heart on it--"

Margot sighed. She came close to the bed and took Felicia's hands in
hers.

"Listen carefully," she entreated, "the thing I have to tell you is
hard. You see when Octavia went away from you she did not come here,
she--"

"Where did she go?" demanded Felicia sitting bolt upright.

"She went--" Margot's throaty voice dragged painfully, "She went where
all good women go when their work is done--"

"Her work wasn't done," objected Felice. "She said it would be a great
deal of work to build the garden over, she said she was afraid it
would be all weeds--Piqueur was so old--she said--Oh! why are you
weeping, Margot?"

"When she went away from me first," moaned Margot, "I thought I could
never stand it--it was so still and so lonely here in the woods
without her--and now, after all these years that I have learned to
live without her--it is as if she had gone away again to have to try--