y Ourson but
thanked him and spoke to him more tenderly than ever before, thinking
that soon perhaps she would be separated from him by death. Ourson had
the same thought. They both fervently invoked the protection of the
fairy Drolette. Ourson, indeed, called upon her in a loud voice but she
did not respond to his appeal.

The day passed away sadly. Neither Ourson nor Violette spoke to Agnella
on the subject of their disquiet for fear of aggravating her melancholy
which had been constantly increasing as Ourson grew to manhood.

"Already twenty years old!" thought she. "If he persists in living in
this solitude and seeing no one and in refusing to change with Violette,
who asks nothing better, I am certain, I am convinced, he will wear this
bear-skin till his death."

Agnella wept, often wept; but her tears brought her no remedy.

The day Violette had her frightful dream, Agnella also had a dream. The
fairy Drolette had appeared to her:

"Courage, queen," she said to her, "in a few days Ourson will lose his
bear's skin and you can give him his true name of Prince Marvellous."

Agnella had awaked full of hope and happiness. She redoubled her
tenderness to Violette, believing that it was to her she would owe the
happiness of her son.

Every one retired at night with different feelings. Violette and Ourson,
full of anxiety for the future which appeared so threatening, Agnella's
heart bounding with joy at that same future which appeared so near and
so replete with happiness, Passerose, astonished at the melancholy of
the one and the joy of the other and ignorant of the cause of both.

All slept, however. Violette after weeping profusely. Ourson after
having invoked the fairy Drolette; Agnella after smiling and thinking of
Ourson handsome and attractive and Passerose after saying to herself a
hundred times: "But what is the matter with them all to-day?"

Scarcely an hour after all at the farm were asleep, Violette was aroused
by the smell of fire and smoke. Agnella awoke at the same moment.

"Mother," said Violette, "do you not smell something?"

"The house is on fire," said Agnella. "Look what a light is round about
us!"

They sprang from their beds and ran to the parlor. The flames had
already taken possession of it and of the neighboring chambers.

"Ourson! Passerose!" cried Agnella.

"Ourson! Ourson!" exclaimed Violette.

Passerose sprang half clothed into the parlor.

"We are lost, madam! The flames a