I not only have the heart, as I tell you, to think kindly of our enemies, those Grandissime, for example"-- she waved her hand with the air of selecting at random--"but I am burning up to know what is the condition of that poor, sick, noble 'Sieur Frowenfel', and I am going to do it!" The heart which Clotilde was accused of not having gave a stir of deep gratitude.

Dear, pretty little mother! Not only knowing full well the existence of this swelling heart and the significance, to-day, of its every warm pulsation, but kindly covering up the discovery with make-believe reproaches.

The tears started in her eyes; that was her reply.
"Oh, now! it is the rent again, I suppose," cried Aurora, "always the rent.

It is not the rent that worries _me_, it is 'Sieur Frowenfel', poor man.

But very well, Mademoiselle Silence, I will match you for making me do all the talking." She was really beginning to sink under the labor of carrying all the sprightliness for both.