LITTLE MARIE OF LEHON.
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reminded us of an excuse for addressing her, and as she was about to pass with the respectful little curtsey of the country, my friend said in French:—
'Stay please. I want to speak to you.' She stopped at once and stood looking at us under her long eyelashes in a timid yet confiding way, very pretty to see.
'We want to drink goat's milk every morning: can you let us have it, little one?'
'Oh, yes, mademoiselle! Nannette gives fine milk, and no one has yet engaged her,' answered the child, her whole face brightening at the prospect.
'What name have you?'
'Marie Rosier, mademoiselle.'
'And you live at Lehon?'
'Yes, mademoiselle.'
'Have you parents?'
