ne leaned forward the better to view the scene.

"Oh, it is a hole!" exclaimed Madame Deberle carelessly. "Still, trees
are so rare in Paris that one is happy in having half a dozen of one's
own."

"No, no, you have a very pleasant place," murmured Helene.

The sun filled the pale atmosphere that day with a golden dust, its
rays streaming slowly through the leafless branches of the trees.
These assumed a ruddier tint, and you could see the delicate purple
gems softening the cold grey of the bark. On the lawn and along the
walks the grass and gravel glittered amidst the haze that seemed to
ooze from the ground. No flower was in blossom; only the happy flush
which the sunshine cast upon the soil revealed the approach of spring.

"At this time of year it is rather dull," resumed Madame Deberle. "In
June it is as cozy as a nest; the trees prevent any one from looking
in, and we enjoy perfect privacy." At this point she paused to call:
"Lucien, you must come away from that watertap!"

The lad, who was doing the honors of the garden, had led Jeanne
towards a tap under the steps. Here he had turned on the water, which
he allowed to splash on the tips of his boots. It was a game that he
delighted in. Jeanne, with grave face, looked on while he wetted his
feet.

"Wait a moment!" said Pauline, rising. "I'll go and stop his
nonsense!"

But Juliette held her back.

"You'll do no such thing; you are even more of a madcap than he is.
The other day both of you looked as if you had taken a bath. How is it
that a big girl like you cannot remain two minutes seated? Lucien!"
she continued directing her eyes on her son, "turn off the water at
once!"

The child, in his fright, made an effort to obey her. But instead of
turning the tap off, he turned it on all the more, and the water
gushed forth with a force and a noise that made him lose his head. He
recoiled, splashed up to the shoulders.

"Turn off the water at once!" again ordered his mother, whose cheeks
were flushing with anger.

Jeanne, hitherto silent, then slowly, and with the greatest caution,
ventured near the tap; while Lucien burst into loud sobbing at sight
of this cold stream, which terrified him, and which he was powerless
to stop. Carefully drawing her skirt between her legs, Jeanne
stretched out her bare hands so as not to wet her sleeves, and closed
the tap without receiving a sprinkle. The flow instantly ceased.
Lucien, astonished and inspired with respect