United States or French Polynesia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She was so giddy that she could give no account of what she had been taught, though Monique gathered from her that her poor mother had said much to her upon religious subjects during her last short illness.
"Meeta would not let Margot tell her own story, but raised her voice so high that Martin himself from one side, and Ella from another, came to see what could have happened. They came in just in time to see Monique empty the purse, and count the golden pieces.
"Everyone at home was pleased with Meeta when she arrived, though Monique secretly wondered how she could be so merry when her parents were hardly cold in their graves. Meeta was not, however, cold-hearted, but she was thoughtless, and she enjoyed the change of scene, and was pleased with her newly-known relations and their manner of life.
The name was Stolberg, and the family, though they had never been rich, had never sought help from others, and were highly respected by all who knew them. "At the time of this history the household consisted of the venerable mother, Monique Stolberg, her son Martin, a widower, and the three children of Martin; Ella, Jacques, and Margot.
'I had rather live at Chateau Leurre, or my own Nid de Merle, she replied. 'There I should see Soeur Monique, and my aunt, the Abbess, and we would have the peasants to dance in the castle court. Oh! if you could but see the orchards at Le Bocage, you would never want to go away. And we could come now and then to see my dear Queen. 'I am glad at least you would not live at court.
"The little one was dressed in her clean Sunday clothes, in the fashion of the country, and she wore a full striped petticoat which Monique had spun of lamb's-wool, a white jacket with short sleeves like the body of a frock, and a flowered chintz apron. Her pretty hair was left to curl naturally, and no child could have had a fairer, softer, purer complexion.
He had been the best of sons; and, when his wife died, he was rewarded for his filial piety by the care which his mother took of his children and his house. "Monique had had one other child besides Martin; a daughter, who had married and gone over the hills with her husband into France; but her marriage had proved unfortunate.
Then there is the Mère Supérieure, of thin, æsthetic face, who comes with a gentle word of the "Faith" for each one; the austere Soeur Félicité, who counts the cups and searches your soul and brings in hot coffee and a steaming ragoût; and the pretty, young Soeur Monique, with her uplifted face, who cannot conceal a shy admiration for big, blond Henri who rails at everything and is as lovable as a baby.
What was it you found, that Monique praised you for finding, and told you you were a good child for giving it up to her? "'Oh! it was the wild strawberries, cried Margot; 'the pretty mountain strawberries. Grandmother thanked me for bringing her home the strawberries, for she said she had not tasted them since she was a girl.
You said her health was better since her nurse had been so often with her, and that she had ceased from her austerities. 'Not entirely; for when first she came, in her transports of despair and grief on finding Soeur Monique removed, she extorted from Father Bonami a sort of hope that she might yet save her husband's, I mean the Baron's soul. Then, truly, it was a frenzy of fasts and prayers.
Word Of The Day