Not satisfied with this, he piled full of wood the stone oven outside
the house, and carried water for her from the spring. This came from
natural kindness, for he did not see the tempting look she gave him, nor
the invitation in her eye, as he turned to leave her. He merely
asked her name. But after he had gone, as though he had forgotten, or
remembered, something, he leaped the fence again, came up to her with an
air of half-abstraction, half-courtesy, took both her hands in his, and,
before she could recover herself, kissed her on the cheeks in a paternal
sort of way, saying, "Adieu, adieu, my child!" and left her.

The act had condescension in it; yet, too, something unconsciously
simple and primitive. Parpon the dwarf, who that moment perched himself
on the fence, could not decide which Valmond was just then--dauphin or
fool. Valmond did not see the little man, but swung away down the dusty
road, reciting to himself couplets from 'Le Vieux Drapeau':

"Oh, come, my flag, come, hope of mine,
And thou shalt dry these fruitless tears;"

and apparently, without any connection, he passed complacently to an
entirely different song:

"She loved to laugh, she loved to drink,
I bought her jewels fine."

Then he added, with a suddenness which seemed to astound himself,--for
afterwards he looked round quickly, as if to see if he had been
heard,--"Elise Malboir--h'm! a pretty name, Elise; but Malboir--tush!
it should be Malbarre; the difference between Lombardy cider and wine of
the Empire."

Parpon, left behind, sat on the fence with his legs drawn up to his
chin, looking at Elise, till she turned and caught the provoking light
of his eye. She flushed, then was cool again, for she was put upon her
mettle by the suggestion of his glance.

"Come, lazy-bones," she said; "come fetch me currants from the garden."

"Come, mocking-bird," answered he; "come peck me on the cheek."

She tossed her head and struck straight home. "It isn't a game of pass
it on from gentleman to beetle."

"You think he's a gentleman?" he asked.

"As sure as I think you're a beetle."

He laughed, took off his cap, and patted himself on the head. "Parpon,
Parpon!" said he, "if Jean Malboir could see you now, he'd put his foot
on you and crush you--dirty beetle!"

At the mention of her father's name a change passed over Elise; for this
same Parpon, when all men else were afraid, had saved Jean Malboir's
life at