ghly.

[Illustration: "WHAT'S THE MATTER NOW?" HE CRIED ANGRILY.]

With Perrine's aid she got her handkerchief out of her pocket. Talouel
strode up and down the porch. After the handkerchief had been twisted
around the wounded hand he came over to poor Rosalie and stood towering
above her.

"Empty your pockets," he ordered. She looked at him, not understanding.

"I say, take everything out of your pockets," he said again.

She did what she was told, and drew from her pockets an assortment of
things--a whistle made from a nut, some bones, a thimble, a stick of
liquorice, three cents, and a little mirror.

The bully at once seized the mirror.

"Ah, I was sure of it," he cried. "While you were looking at yourself in
the glass a thread broke and your spool stopped. You tried to catch the
time lost and that's how it happened."

"I did not look in my glass," said Rosalie.

"Bah! you're all the same. I know you. Now: what's the trouble?"

"I don't know, but my hand is crushed," said poor Rosalie, trying to
keep back her tears.

"Well, and what do you want me to do?"

"Father Ninepins told me to come to you," said Rosalie.

"And you ... what's the matter with you?" he asked, turning to Perrine.

"Nothing," she replied, disconcerted.

"Well?"

"Father Ninepins told her to bring me here," said Rosalie.

"Well, she can take you to Dr. Ruchon and let him see it. But I'm going
to look into this matter and find out if it is your fault, and if it is
... look out!"

He spoke in a loud, bullying voice which could be heard throughout the
offices.

As the two girls were about to go M. Vulfran Paindavoine appeared,
guiding himself with his hand along the wall.

"What's it all about, Talouel? What's the matter here?"

"Nothing much, sir," replied the foreman. "One of the girls has hurt her
hand."

"Where is she?"

"Here I am, Monsieur Vulfran," said Rosalie, going up to him.

"Why, it's Mother Francoise's granddaughter, Rosalie, isn't it?" asked
the blind man.

"Yes, it's me, Monsieur Vulfran," said Rosalie, beginning to cry. Harsh
words had hardened her heart, but this tone of pity was too much for
poor Rosalie.

"What is the matter with your hand, my poor girl?" asked the blind man.

"Oh, sir, I think my two fingers are broken," she said, "although I am
not in much pain."

"Well, why are you crying?" asked M. Vulfran, tenderly.

"Because you speak so kindly to me."

Talouel shrugged his shoulders.