JILL walked rapidly back along the river road with no eyes for the evening loveliness. She realized that tea-time was past when she saw Amélie sitting on the wall in front of the Ecu d'Or in an evening mood of unaccustomed leisure. Poor, hardly driven Amélie on this pleasant vantage-ground, swung one foot, as Jill used to swing hers, and watched with fond eyes the gambols of a shrill-voiced little girl who was playing in the road.
Jill paused to greet her. 'Has Monsieur come in?' she asked.
Monsieur had returned an hour ago, Amélie informed her, looking up at the generous anglaise with approbation.
'And he's probably had no tea, either,' said Jill. 'Well, we'll enjoy our dinner so much the more. What is there for dinner, Amélie?'
'Ecrevisses; and an excellent blanquette de veau, Madame.'
'Is this your little girl?' Jill inquired, looking down at the child who wore a large red bow at the top of its plain little head and showed very grimy drawers under its short petticoats.
'Mais oui, Madame; c'est ma fille unique,' said Amélie proudly. 'Viens, Germaine, dis bonjour à la
