all double the time we have to spend together. And then, besides, if I
feel worse when the leaves turn yellow, we will go and live in a pine
forest, the leaves are always green there."

* * * * *

In October Francine was obliged to keep her bed. Jacques' friend
attended her. The little room in which they lived was situated at the
top of the house and looked into a court, in which there was a tree,
which day by day grew barer of foliage. Jacques had put a curtain to the
window to hide this tree from the invalid, but Francine insisted on its
being drawn back.

"Oh my darling!" said she to Jacques. "I will give you a hundred times
more kisses than there are leaves." And she added, "Besides I am much
better now. I shall soon be able to go out, but as it will be cold and I
do not want to have red hands, you must buy me a muff."

During the whole of her illness this muff was her only dream.

The day before All Saints', seeing Jacques more grief stricken than
ever, she wished to give him courage, and to prove to him that she was
better she got up.

The doctor arrived at that moment and forced her to go to bed again.

"Jacques," whispered he in the artist's ear, "you must summon up your
courage. All is over; Francine is dying."

Jacques burst into tears.

"You may give her whatever she asks for now," continued the doctor,
"there is no hope."

Francine heard with her eyes what the doctor had said to her lover.

"Do not listen to him," she exclaimed, holding out her arm to Jacques,
"do not listen to him; he is not speaking the truth. We will go out
tomorrow--it is All Saints' Day. It will be cold--go buy me a muff, I beg
of you. I am afraid of chilblains this winter."

Jacques was going out with his friend, but Francine detained the doctor.

"Go and get my muff," said she to Jacques. "Get a nice one, so that it
may last a good while."

When she was alone she said to the doctor.

"Oh sir! I am going to die, and I know it. But before I pass away give
me something to give me strength for a night, I beg of you. Make me well
for one more night, and let me die afterwards, since God does not wish
me to live longer."

As the doctor was doing his best to console her, the wind carried into
the room and cast upon the sick girl's bed a yellow leaf, torn from the
tree in the little courtyard.

Francine opened the curtain, and saw the tree entirely bare.

"It is the last," said she, putting