had
been contemplating them with longing looks, saying:

"There! that's for you brats; just a little taste to give you a relish
for prigging; it's a thing you'll take to more kindly if it's made
agreeable to you. And now, get off to bed. Come, look sharp, I've got a
deal to say to mother. There--you shall have some supper brought
up-stairs to you."

The delighted children clapped their hands with joy, and triumphantly
waved the stolen handkerchiefs which had just been presented to them.

"What do you say now, you little stupids?" said Calabash to them; "will
you ever go and be persuaded by Martial again? Did he ever give you
beautiful silk handkerchiefs like those, I should be glad to know?"

Francois and Amandine looked at each other, then hung down their heads,
and made no answer.

"Answer, can't you?" persisted Calabash, roughly. "I ask you whether you
ever received such presents from Martial?"

"No," answered Francois, gazing with intense delight on his bright red
silk handkerchief, "Brother Martial never gives us anything."

To which Amandine replied, in a low yet firm voice:

"Ah, Francois, that is because Martial has nothing to give anybody."

"He might have as much as other people if he chose to steal it, mightn't
he, Francois?" said Nicholas, brutally.

"Yes, brother," replied Francois. Then, as if glad to quit the subject,
he resumed his ecstatic contemplation of his handkerchief, saying:

"Oh, what a real beauty it is! What a fine cravat it will make for
Sundays, won't it?"

"That it will," answered Amandine. "And just see, Francois, how charming
I shall look with my sweet pretty handkerchief tied around my head,--so,
brother."

"What a rage the little children at the lime-kilns will be in when they
see you pass by!" said Calabash, fixing her malignant glances on the
poor children to ascertain whether they comprehended the full and
spiteful meaning of her words,--the hateful creature seeking, by the aid
of vanity, to stifle the last breathings of virtue within their young
minds. "The brats at the lime-kilns," continued she, "will look like
beggar children beside you, and be ready to burst with envy and jealousy
at seeing you two looking like a little lady and gentleman with your
pretty silk handkerchiefs."

"So they will," cried Francois. "Ah, and I like my new cravat ever so
much the better, Sister Calabash, now you have told me that the children
at the kilns will be so mad with me for being