fringe at her side; while
a cap of blue cloth, with a gold band and tassel, hung by a hook at her
girdle. Simple as was the dress, it displayed to perfection the symmetry
of her figure and her carriage, and suited the character of her air and
gesture, which, abrupt and impatient at times, was almost boyish in the
wayward freedom of her action.

The surgeon soon finished his directions, the crowd separated, and
Minette alone remained by the sick man's bed. For some minutes her cares
did not permit her to look up; but when she did, a slight cry broke from
her, and she sank down upon the seat at the bedside.

"Minette, dear Minette, you are not angry with me?" said I, in a low and
trembling tone. "I have not done aught to displease you,--have I so?"

She answered not a word, but a blush of the deepest scarlet suffused her
face and temples, and her bosom heaved almost convulsively.

"To you I owe my life," continued I, with earnestness; "nay more, I owe
the kindness which made of a sick-bed a place of pleasant thoughts and
happy memories. Can I, then, have offended you, while my whole heart was
bursting with gratitude?"

A paleness, more striking than the blush that preceded it, now stole
over her features, but she uttered not a word. Her eyes turned from
me and fell upon her own figure, and I saw the tears till up and roll
slowly along her cheeks.

"Why did you leave me, Minette?" said I, wound up by her obstinate
silence beyond further endurance. "Did the few words of impatience--"

"No, no, no!" broke she in, "not that! not that!"

"What then? Tell me, for Heaven's sake, how have I earned your
displeasure? Believe me, I have met with too little kindness in my way
through life, not to feel poignantly the loss of a friend. What was it,
I beseech you?"

"Oh, do not ask me!" cried she, with streaming eyes; "do not, I beg of
you. Enough that you know--and this I swear to you,--that no fault of
yours was in question. You were always good and always kind to me,--too
kind, too good,--but not even your teaching could alter the waywardness
of my nature. Speak of this no more, I ask you, as the greatest favor
you can bestow on me. See here," cried she, while her lips trembled with
emotion; "I have need of all my courage to be of use to him; and you
will not, I am sure, render me unequal to my task."

"But we are friends, Minette; friends as before," said I, taking her
hand, and pressing it within mine.

"Yes, friends!