of her stall, with
his colors and brushes tossed out on the board, he talked to her, and,
with the soft imperceptible skill of long practice in those arts, he drew
out the details of her little simple life.

There were not always people to buy, and whilst she rested and sheltered
the flowers from the sun, she answered him willingly, and in one of her
longer rests showed him the wonderful stockings.

"Do you think it _could_ be the fairies?" she asked him a little
doubtfully.

It was easy to make her believe any fantastical nonsense; but her fairies
were ethereal divinities. She could scarcely believe that they had laid
that box on her chair.

"Impossible to doubt it!" he replied, unhesitatingly. "Given a belief in
fairies at all, why should there be any limit to what they can do? It is
the same with the saints, is it not?"

"Yes," said Bebee, thoughtfully.

The saints were mixed up in her imagination with the fairies in an
intricacy that would have defied the best reasonings of Father
Francis.

"Well, then, you will wear the stockings, will you not? Only, believe me,
your feet are far prettier without them."

Bebee laughed happily, and took another peep in the cosy rose-satin nest.
But her little face had a certain perplexity. Suddenly she turned on him.

"Did not _you_ put them there?"

"I?--never!"

"Are you quite sure?"

"Quite; but why ask?"

"Because," said Bebee, shutting the box resolutely and pushing it a
little away,--"because I would not take it if you did. You are a
stranger, and a present is a debt, so Antoine always said."

"Why take a present then from the Varnhart children, or your old friend
who gave you the clasps?"

"Ah, that is very different. When people are very, very poor, equally
poor, the one with the other, little presents that they save for and
make with such a difficulty are just things that are a pleasure;
sacrifices; like your sitting up with a sick person at night, and then
she sits up with you another year when you want it. Do you not know?"

"I know you talk very prettily. But why should you not take any one
else's present, though he may not be poor?"

"Because I could not return it."

"Could you not?"

The smile in his eyes dazzled her a little; it was so strange, and yet
had so much light in it; but she did not understand him one whit.

"No; how could I?" she said earnestly. "If I were to save for two years,
I could not get francs enough to buy anything worth