Towards morning Margot waked out of a brief sleep, and found the Cure and
his sister and others about her bed.

"Is it near sunrise?" she whispered.

"It is just sunrise. See; God has been good," answered the Cure, drawing
open the blind and letting in the first golden rays.

Rosalie entered the room with a cup of tea, and came towards the bed.

Old Margot looked at the girl, at the tea, and then at the Cure.

"Drink the tea for me, Rosalie," she whispered. Rosalie did as she was
asked.

She looked round feebly; her eyes were growing filmy. "I never gave--so
much--trouble--before," she managed to say. "I never had--so much--
attention.... I can keep--a secret too," she said, setting her lips
feebly with pride. "But I--never--had--so much--attention--before; have
I--Rosalie?"

Rosalie did not need to answer, for the woman was gone. The crowning
interest of her life had come all at the last moment, as it were, and she
had gone away almost gladly and with a kind of pride.

Rosalie also had a hidden pride: the secret was now her very own--hers
and M'sieu's.