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And when I woke up the fire was quite out and it was all dark. And then I saw the light of Marcelline's candle through the hinge of the door, and she came to tell me it was time to get up." "Oh dear," said Jeanne, "I do hope you'll dream some more to-night." "I daresay I shan't dream at all," said Hugh. "Some nights I go to sleep, and it's morning in one minute.
It was rather queer when to-morrow morning came when he woke to find it had come, at least; it was rather queer to see everything looking just the same as on other to-morrow mornings. Hugh had not time to think very much about it, for it had been Marcelline's knock at the door that had wakened him, and she told him it was rather later than usual.
Jeanne's bright dark eyes glanced up at Marcelline with an expression of mingled curiosity and respect. "How do you know it will come true?" she said. Marcelline's old eyes, nearly as bright and dark still as Jeanne's own, had a half-mischievous look in them as she replied, solemnly shaking her head, "I know, Mademoiselle, and that is all I can say.
She must have grown drowsy with the quiet and the heat of the fire, for she quite started when the door again opened, and Marcelline's voice told her that her mother wanted her to go down to the salon, she had something to say to her. "O Marcelline," said Jeanne, rubbing her eyes, "I didn't know you had gone away. What does mamma want? O Marcelline, I am so sleepy, I would like to go to bed."
"Tease you, Mademoiselle?" Marcelline repeated. "Yes, tease me," insisted Jeanne. "You know I hate people to go on about things I don't understand. Now you're to tell us a story at once, do you hear, Marcelline?" Hugh said nothing, but he looked up in Marcelline's face with his grave blue eyes, and the old woman smiled again.
Hugh felt so sorry and disappointed that he shut his eyes tight and tried to go on dreaming, if indeed dreaming it was. But it was no use. He leant his face against Marcelline's soft white apron and tried to fancy it the fairy lady's fairy robe; but it was no use. He had to sit up and look about him. "Well," said Marcelline, "and didn't you like the story?" Hugh looked at Jeanne.
I must tell Marcelline to make her a little tisane when she goes to bed." "Ah, bah!" said Jeanne's white-headed papa. "What we were speaking of will be a much better cure than tisane. She needs companionship of her own age." Jeanne pricked up her ears at this, and glanced at her mother inquiringly. Instantly there started into her mind Marcelline's prophecy about her wish.
He and Jeanne had been very merry indeed; they had been dressing up, and playing delightful tricks such as tapping at the salon door, and on being told to come in, making their appearance like two very, very old peasants, hobbling along on sticks Jeanne with a cap and little knitted shawl of Marcelline's, Hugh with a blouse and cotton nightcap, so that Jeanne's mother quite jumped at first sight of the quaint little figures.
She was so busy with these fancies that she did not hear the stopping of the click-click of Marcelline's knitting needles, nor did she hear the old nurse get up from her chair and go out of the room. A few minutes before, the facteur had rung at the great wooden gates of the courtyard a rather rare event, for in those days letters came only twice a week but this, too, little Jeanne had not heard.
She jumped on to Marcelline's knee and pretended to beat her. "You naughty little old woman," she said; "you very naughty little old woman, to say things like that to puzzle me just what you know I don't like. Go back to your own country, naughty old Marcelline; go back to your fairyland, or wherever it was you came from, if you are going to tease poor little Jeanne so."
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