ear Mademoiselle
Eliane,' sobbed Charlotte; and the only thing that consoled her at all
was when the two young ladies found for her among their little treasures
a very prettily painted 'bonbonniere,' and a quaint little workcase,
fitted with thimble, scissors, and all such things, which she promised
them she would always keep, _always_, as souvenirs of their kindness.

"And in return, the poor little thing went out with her aunt's maid the
next morning and bought two little keepsakes--a scent-bottle for
Mademoiselle Jeanne, and a fan for Mademoiselle Eliane. She spent on
them all the money she had; and at this very moment," added Dudu, "the
scent-bottle is downstairs in your mother's large old dressing-case, the
dressing-case she got from her grandfather. What became of the fan I
cannot say.

"Well, the few remaining days passed, and one cold, dreary morning poor
Charlotte clambered over the railings for the last time, to embrace her
friends and bid them farewell. She might have come in by the door and
seen them in the salon; of course neither her aunt nor our young ladies'
mother would have objected to such a thing, as she was going away, even
though no visits of ceremony had been exchanged between the families.
But this would not have suited Charlotte; it was in the garden she had
first seen her friends, and in the garden must she bid them good-bye. I
assisted at the interview," continued Dudu, "and very touching it was.
Had I been of a nature to shed tears, I really think my feelings would
have been too much for me. And Charlotte would have kissed and hugged me
too, no doubt, had I encouraged anything of the kind. But, fortunately
perhaps for the preservation of my feathers and my dignity, I am not,
and never have been, of a demonstrative disposition."

Dudu cleared his throat and stopped to rest for a moment. Then he
continued--

"The parting was over at last, and little Charlotte was away--quite away
over the sea in cold, rainy England. Cold and rainy it must have been
that winter in any case, for it was cold and rainy even here, and many
changes happened, and shadows of strange events were already faintly
darkening the future. It was the next year that our pretty Mademoiselle
Jeanne married and went away with her husband from the old house, which
yet was to be her home, and the home of her children in the end, for
Mademoiselle Eliane never married, and so all came to be inherited by
her sister's sons. But with