So one day she saw Marie, when the latter was bringing flowers to the gardener's wife, who was good to her; and the Countess called the child to her, and took her on her knee, and talked with her.
Ah, she was good, the Countess, and lovely! After that Marie was brought to the castle every day, and the Countess played to her of the violin, and Marie knew all at once that this was the best thing in the world, and the dearest, and the one to die for, you understand.

(But Abby did not understand in the least.) So when Madame the Countess saw how it was, she taught Marie, and got her the Lady, the violin which was Marie's life and soul; and she let come down from Paris a great teacher, and they all played together, the Countess his friend, for many years his pupil, and the great violinist, and Marie, the little peasant girl in her blue gown and cap.

He said she was a born musician, Marie: of course, he was able to see things, being of the same nature; but Mere Jeanne was unhappy, and said no good would come of it.

Yes, well, what is to be, you know, that will be, and nossing else.

The great teacher died, and there was an end of him.