ing, and there was such a sweet
expression in her blue eyes, so much grace about her movements, and such
music in her voice, that little as her features seemed to harmonize
with the disposition which Benassis had praised to the commandant, the
officer recognized in her the capricious and ailing creature, condemned
to suffering by a nature that had been thwarted in its growth.

La Fosseuse deftly stirred the fire of dry branches and turfs of peat,
then sat down in an armchair and took up one of the shirts that she had
begun. She sat there under the officer's eyes, half bashful, afraid to
look up, and calm to all appearance; but her bodice rose and fell
with the rapid breathing that betrayed her nervousness, and it struck
Genestas that her figure was very graceful.

"Well, my poor child, is your work going on nicely?" said Benassis,
taking up the material intended for the shirts, and passing it through
his fingers.

La Fosseuse gave the doctor a timid and beseeching glance.

"Do not scold me, sir," she entreated; "I have not touched them to-day,
although they were ordered by you, and for people who need them very
badly. But the weather has been so fine! I wandered out and picked
a quantity of mushrooms and white truffles, and took them over to
Jacquotte; she was very pleased, for some people are coming to dinner.
I was so glad that I thought of it; something seemed to tell me to go to
look for them."

She began to ply her needle again.

"You have a very pretty house here, mademoiselle," said Genestas,
addressing her.

"It is not mine at all, sir," she said, looking at the stranger, and her
eyes seemed to grow red and tearful; "it belongs to M. Benassis," and
she turned towards the doctor with a gentle expression on her face.

"You know quite well, my child, that you will never have to leave it,"
he said, as he took her hand in his.

La Fosseuse suddenly rose and left the room.

"Well," said the doctor, addressing the officer, "what do you think of
her?"

"There is something strangely touching about her," Genestas answered.
"How very nicely you have fitted up this little nest of hers!"

"Bah! a wall-paper at fifteen or twenty sous; it was carefully chosen,
but that was all. The furniture is nothing very much either, my
basket-maker made it for me; he wanted to show his gratitude; and La
Fosseuse made the curtains herself out of a few yards of calico. This
little house of hers, and her simple furniture, seem