She cast her arms about her mother's neck, laid her cheek upon it for a moment, and then, feeling the maternal tear, lifted her lips, and, kissing her, said: "I will not! I will not!" But the voice was one, not of willing consent, but of desperate resolution.
"It would be useless, anyhow," said the mother, laying her arm around her daughter's waist.
Olive repeated the kiss, prolonging it passionately.
"I have nobody but you," murmured the girl; "I am a poor quadroone!" She threw back her plaited hair for a third embrace, when a sound in the shrubbery startled them.
"_Qui ci ca ?_" called Madame Delphine, in a frightened voice, as the two stood up, holding to each other.
No answer.
"It was only the dropping of a twig," she whispered, after a long holding of the breath.

But they went into the house and barred it everywhere.
It was no longer pleasant to sit up.

They retired, and in course of time, but not soon, they fell asleep, holding each other very tight, and fearing, even in their dreams, to hear another twig fall..