Early in the morning he was hastily summoned; he must come at once to the house of the Rossignols; something was wrong.

He went, and there, in her bed, lay the little woman, just as if asleep, and a smile on her face--but she was dead." Piers had a lump in his throat; he straightened himself, and tried to command his features.

Irene, smiling, looked steadily at him.
"From that day," she added, "Thibaut has been my father's servant.

He wouldn't be anything else.

This, he always says, would best have pleased his mother.