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Updated: May 22, 2025
Now I Father Francis says we should all do as we would be done by I will take Bébée to live with me, all for nothing; and we will root the flowers up and plant it with good cabbages and potatoes and salad plants.
But this afternoon the familiar history had a new patheticalness for her, and as the old soul put aside with her palsied hand the square of canvas that screened the casement, and looked out, with her old dim sad eyes strained in the longing that God never answered, Bébée felt a strange chill at her own heart, and wondered to herself, "What can it be to care for another creature like that?
So she toiled hard and learned much, and grew taller and very thin, and got a look in her eyes like a lost dog's, and yet never lost heart or wandered in the task that he had set her, or in her faith in his return. "Burn the books, Bébée," whispered the children again and again, clinging to her skirts. "Burn the wicked, silent things.
A sense of having done wrong weighed on her; of having been rude and ungrateful. She had no heart for the children that evening. Mère Krebs was sitting out before her door shelling peas, and called to her to come in and have a drop of coffee. Krebs had come in from Vilvöorde fair, and brought a stock of rare good berries with him. But Bébée thanked her, and went on to her own garden to work.
He lifted her in, and the little horses flew fast through the green country, ringing chimes at each step, till they plunged into the deep glades of the woods of Cambre and Soignies. Bébée sat breathless with delight.
"The dog won't fly at him, child; he flashed at the dog with his eye, and scared him. He'll get up." "Nonsense, bebee! you make me angry; how should he get up?" "The dook tells me so, and, what's more, I had a dream.
Bébée stood still, crushed for a moment with the noise and the cruelty and the sense of absolute desolation; she scarcely noticed that the buckles had been stolen; she had only one thought to get to Paris. "Can I never go without money?" she asked at the wicket; the man there glanced a moment, with a touch of pity, at the little wistful face.
'Get up! get up yourself; where are you? where is your Here, there, bebee, here's the door; there, make haste, they are coming. 'He'll get up yet, said Mrs. Herne, recovering her breath; 'the dock tells me so. 'Never mind him or the dook; he is drabbed; come away, or we shall be grabbed both of us. 'One more blow, I know where his head lies.
Bébée was all day long in the city, indeed, as other girls were, but with her it had always been different. Antoine had always been with her up to the day of his death; and after his death she had sat in the same place, surrounded by the people she had known from infancy, and an insult to her would have been answered by a stroke from the cobbler's strap or from the tinker's hammer. There was one girl only who ever tried to do her any harm a good-looking stout wench, who stood at the corner of the Montagne de la Cour with a stall of fruit in the summer time, and in winter time drove a milk cart over the snow. This girl would get at her sometimes, and talk of the students, and tell her how good it was to get out of the town on a holiday, and go to any one of the villages where there was Kermesse and dance, and drink the little blue wine, and have trinkets bought for one, and come home in the moonlight in a char-
"You are a busy little Bébée always," he said, with his lips caressing her soft brown arms that were round his neck. "But you must be busier than ever whilst I am gone. So you will forget. No, no, I do not mean that: I mean so the time will pass quickest. And I shall finish your picture, Bébée, and all Paris will see you, and the great ladies will envy the little girl with her two wooden shoes.
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