"Don't ye cry, Mis' De Arthenay! I don't know what I did, but I didn't go to do it, nohow." Marie turned and looked at him, and smiled through her tears.

"Dear little Petie!" she said, stroking the curly head, "you done nossing, little Petie.

It was the honger, no more! Oh, no more!" she caught her breath, but choked the sob back bravely, and smiled again.
Something woke in her child heart, and bade her not sadden the heart of the younger child with a grief which was not his.

It is one of the lessons of life, and it was well with Marie that she learned it early.
"Madame, my violon," she resumed after a pause, speaking cheerfully, and wiping her eyes with her apron, "she have many voices, Petie; tousand voices, like all birds, all winds, all song in the world; and she have an angry voice, too, deep down, what make you tr-remble in your heart, if you are bad.

_Bien_! Sometime Coquelicot, he been bad, very bad.