anne," said the weak voice of her brother presently.

"Yes, Dick," and the girl hastened to his side. "What is it?"

"I wonder and wonder," said the boy, in a far away voice, "why you told me
what you did about Cherie. She is so good, so kind. The sweetest woman
that I ever knew besides my mother! Why, why did you tell me such awful
things of her, Jeanne? They are not true."

Jeanne was aghast at the question. She stood, unable to answer, fearing
to excite him by telling the truth and yet unwilling for him to be under
the impression that her story was false.

"Tell me," said Dick, weakly. "Why did you do it? I think of it always.
It was not like you, Jeanne."

"Don't ask me, Dick," pleaded Jeanne, falling on her knees beside him.
"Wait until you are well and then we can talk it over."

"You dally," cried Dick, his eyes bright with fever. "I see how it is!
You fibbed to me, Jeanne. I know you did."

"No, Dick, I did not," cried Jeanne, heartbroken at the thought that Dick
could believe such a thing of her. "Listen, and I will tell you all about
it. Snowball can tell you too, if you do not believe me. But you will be
quiet, Dick, won't you? You will be very, very quiet."

"You are not taking a very good way to get your brother well," exclaimed
Madame, entering abruptly. "I will have to forbid you the room if you
excite him like this. Can't you let your tales of me wait until he is
strong enough to bear them?"

"Are they true?" asked Dick, looking up at her with eager eyes. "They are
not, are they?"

"Yes," cried Jeanne, indignantly. "They are true, Dick! As true as I live!
Why should I tell you a falsehood?"

"Are they?" and Dick's eyes lingered on his aunt's questioningly.

"Dear boy," said Madame, caressing him, "believe what the little one tells
you. Is she not your sister? Poor Cherie would rather die than to say
aught against her. Think what you like."

"I knew it," and Dick breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew that you could
not be so wicked and cruel."

"Dick, Dick," cried his sister passionately. "You must believe me. It is
true. All that I tell you and more. Oh, Dick, turn away from that wicked
woman! Don't let her touch you! I will take care of you."

"I will leave you, Dick, my soldier boy," said the lady holding him close
to her. "Your sister can take care of you, as she says. There! I will go."

"No; I want you, Cherie," and the boy held her as tightly as his poor weak
hands would allow. "I do