strange little bowler hat of an obsolete shape. The relief of seeing him was exquisite.
Joseph was agitated, too much agitated to express any surprise or displeasure. 'Is Monsieur looking for Madame la comtesse?' he asked.
'Yes. And for Mademoiselle Ludérac,' said Graham.
'Mademoiselle has gone out to seek her kid. It has escaped, or been taken away. She went to give it its evening milk in the shed;—and found it gone. But the rope, too, was gone, so that we think the boy from the cottage may have come to fetch it.'
Relief, delicious, ecstatic, was flooding Graham's heart. He stood above Joseph, the cat in his arms, and questioned him. 'Why should the boy come for it—if it's Mademoiselle's?'
'Ah; Mademoiselle Marthe intends to buy it now. She will give him two fowls, for his first communion feast, in place of it, as well as its price, to his mother; but Blaise will have set his heart on roast kid.'
'Will he!—The little ogre!'
'Ah, roast kid is an excellent dish, Monsieur,' said Joseph, in his flat, impartial tones. 'And if the kid is not eaten, the fowls will be.'
'That's true enough!' laughed Graham, his sardonic humour gratified by Joseph's realism. 'But since Mademoiselle wants it to live, that's all that need concern us, isn't it?—I must go and help her find it; at once.'
'Ah, but it is Madame la comtesse who is lost now!' said Joseph, and with something of impatience for a gaiety he must feel misplaced, and, indeed, Graham
