patronizing nod,
but she went up to Tardif, laid a hand on each of his broad shoulders,
and looked him keenly in the face.

"All goes well, my friend," she said, significantly. "Your little
mam'zelle does not think of going to the good God yet."

I did not stay to watch how Tardif received this news, for I was
impatient myself to see how she was going on. Thank Heaven, the fever
was gone, the delirium at an end. The dark-gray eyes, opening languidly
as my fingers touched her wrist, were calm and intelligent. She was as
weak as a kitten, but that did not trouble me much. I was sure her
natural health was good, and she would soon recover her lost strength. I
had to stoop down to hear what she was saying.

"Have I kept quite still, doctor?" she asked, faintly.

I must own that my eyes smarted, and my voice was not to be trusted. I
had never felt so overjoyed in my life as at that moment. But what a
singular wish to be obedient possessed this girl! What a wonderful
power of submissive self-control! she had cast aside authority and
broken away from it, as she had done apparently, there must have been
some great provocation before a nature like hers could venture to assert
its own independence.

I had ample time for turning over this reflection, for Mother Renouf was
worn out and needed rest, and Suzanne Tardif was of little use in the
sick-room. I scarcely left my patient all that day, for the rumor I had
set afloat the day before was sufficient to make it a difficult task to
procure another nurse. The almost childish face grew visibly better
before my eyes, and when night came I had to acknowledge somewhat
reluctantly that as soon as a boat could leave the island it would be my
bounden duty to return to Guernsey.

"I should like to see Tardif," murmured the girl to me that night, after
she had awakened from a second long and peaceful sleep.

I called him, and he came in barefoot, his broad, burly frame seeming to
fill up all the little room. She could not lift up her head, but her
face was turned toward us, and she held out her small, wasted hand to
him, smiling faintly. He fell on his knees before he took it into his
great, horny palm, and looked down upon it as he held it very carefully
with, tears standing in his eyes.

"Why, it is like an egg-shell," he said. "God bless you, mam'zelle, God
bless you for getting well again!"

She laughed at his words--a feeble though merry laugh, like a
child's--and she seeme