she had brought from her convent.--"These are the
first jonquils I have seen this year, and finer I never beheld! Whom
shall I trust to take them to Madame de Fleury this evening?--It must be
some one who will not stop to stare about on the way, but who will be
very, very careful--some one in whom I can place perfect dependence."

"It must be Victoire, then," cried every voice.

"Yes, she deserves it to-day particularly," said Annette eagerly;
"because she was not angry with Babet when she did what was enough to put
anybody in a passion. Sister Frances, you know this cherry-tree which
you grafted for Victoire last year, and that was yesterday so full of
blossoms--now you see, there is not a blossom left!--Babet plucked them
all this morning to make a nosegay."

"But she did not know," said Victoire, "that pulling off the blossoms
would prevent my having any cherries."

"Oh, I am very sorry I was so foolish," said Babet; "Victoire did not
even say a cross word to me."

"Though she was excessively anxious about the cherries," pursued Annette,
"because she intended to have given the first she had to Madame de
Fleury."

"Victoire, take the jonquils--it is but just," said Sister Frances. "How
I do love to hear them all praise her!--I knew what she would be from the
first."

With a joyful heart Victoire took the jonquils, promised to carry them
with the utmost care, and not to stop to stare on the way. She set out
to Madame de Fleury's hotel, which was in _La Place de Louis Quinze_. It
was late in the evening, the lamps were lighting, and as Victoire crossed
the Pont de Louis Seize, she stopped to look at the reflection of the
lamps in the water, which appeared in succession, as they were lighted,
spreading as if by magic along the river. While Victoire leaned over the
battlements of the bridge, watching the rising of these stars of fire, a
sudden push from the elbow of some rude passenger precipitated her pot of
jonquils into the Seine. The sound it made in the water was thunder to
the ear of Victoire; she stood for an instant vainly hoping it would rise
again, but the waters had closed over it for ever.

"Dans cet etat affreux, que faire?
. . . Mon devoir."

Victoire courageously proceeded to Madame de Fleury's, and desired to see
her.

"D'abord c'est impossible--madame is dressing to go to a concert," said
Francois. "Cannot you leave your message?"

"Oh no," said Victoire; "it is of great conseq