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Updated: May 27, 2025
His smooth, almost boyish face looked so kind that it could not but be an index to a charitable heart. He stopped before the children, looking at them with interest and pity. "How is our stepmother, Dr. Austin?" asked Cecile, raising her head and speaking with alacrity. "Your stepmother is very ill, my dear very ill indeed. I stopped with her to write a letter which she wants me to post.
Cecile found out what geography was, and her teacher, who was a very good-natured young woman, did not refuse her earnest request to learn all she could about France. Cecile had long ago been taught by her own dead father to read, and she could write a very little. She was by no means what would be considered a smart child. Her ideas came slowly she took in gradually.
But now that it seemed she might have cause to temper her bitterness with jealousy her soul was turned to gall. "What manner of woman, Brutus?" he asked after a second's pause. "Tall, pale, straight, black hair, black eyes, silk gown and savours the aristocrat a league off," answered Brutus. "Your official seems gifted with a very comprehensive eye," said Cecile tartly.
"I'll always just take things, and then they'll know what I mean. The French don't matter, Cecile. But what I wish is that we might be in heaven me and you and Toby at once for if this is South, I don't like it, Cecile. I wish Jesus the Guide would take us to heaven at once." "We must find Lovedy first," said Cecile, "and then and then yes, I'd like, too, to die and go there."
"Please, I'm quite well," answered Cecile, "'tis only as father did say as I was a very dependable little girl. I think being dependable makes you feel a bit old don't it, doctor?" "I have no doubt it does," answered the doctor, laughing. And he went away relieved about the funny, old-fashioned little foreign girl, and from that moment Cecile passed out of his busy and useful life.
"You poor tired boy," she whispered, waiting for him. And as he did not stir: "What is the matter, Garry?" "Nothing. I am trying to understand that our winter is ended." She nodded. "Mother and Gray and Cecile and I go North in April.... I wish we might stay through May that is, if you " She looked at him in silent consternation. "Where will you be!"
Lying on a heap of straw by Maurice's side, Cecile dreamt in that vivid manner which makes a vision of the night so real. Jesus the Guide came into the room. It was no longer a man or a woman, or even a kind boy sent by Him. No, no, He came Himself.
Cecile had seen no child like him in the village. He Looked like an English boy. How did he and that English-looking farm get into the sequestered forest of the Landes? After seeing the child, Cecile went back to her hut, sat down on the pine needles, and began to think. Never yet had she obtained the faintest clew to her search.
He was not yet eighteen years old, and his face and figure were attractive. Not being able to conquer her passion, Cecile resolved to satisfy it. She attracted the page to her house, loaded him with caresses, supplied him with sweetmeats and finally did as she wished with him. "Now one day, as they were together in the jeweller's bed, Master Nicholas came home sooner than he was expected.
The child was instantly followed by an old woman, a regular Frenchwoman, upright, straight as a dart, with coal-black eyes and snowy hair tidily put away under a tall peasant's cap. Cecile heard her utter a French exclamation, then chide pretty sharply the uproarious birds. Toby lying perdu behind the hedge, the fowl were naturally chided for much ado about nothing.
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