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Red Caps and Lilies

Chapter 9 DIAN

Word Count: 2865    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

kly-burning fagots. Jean had gathered them during the autumn months, and they were stacked in neat piles in the back of the room. Rows of onions were strung

ed. It was not a savory mixture that met her eyes. The stew was made mostly of hot water and pieces of bread, to which she had added a cup of

rd sniffed the

mes brought them meat which he obtained from a near-by farmer in exchange for some of the cheese for which

e bowl as she spoke and handed it to the shepherd. He took it, bowing his head over it and closing his eyes for a moment. Then he at

mistake not, you think more than the most of us," Mother Barbette continue

or he was thinking deeply. He did not notice that Jean had come into the room

p to the shepherd, for the cold wind blew through the little h

tte eyed her

ld never grow up, he was so merry of heart and so untouched by trouble. Her heart was sad enough, for she knew that, since Neville had come back two months previous, there had been no message from Madame Saint Frère and Lisle. They were hoping daily f

, and in ran Marie Josephine. Mother Barbette rose to her feet

it? You have come alone thro

oom in sheer delight, for Marie Josephine

ne through the woods." She danced over to Dian and went on speaking eagerly. "I am glad that you are here, Dian. Jean and I were saying only the other day that it was so long since you had told

m a short time, for she would soon be missed at Les Vignes, but it was a blessing to have her there with them. Mother Barbette's kind heart swelled with love for the two playmates sitting beside the good shepherd. She had been right when she had said that Dian was a man of few words, but one who thought a great de

light, his black, smocklike

t I was thinking as I walked back from the hill crest to-night and while I was fastening the sheepfold gate." He paused a

often talk of them together and we never forget any of them-'The Purple Sun'

n her beloved Cécile seemed grave and preoccupied, and she felt that she did not confide in her any more. Denise and Bertran still rode gaily through the demesne and danced in the great drawing-room at Les Vignes in the evening. She was more

elf, which was of course very naughty of her. Then she closed h

d against his brother. All the long way home it seemed as though this young lad walked beside me. He was clothed in blue and silver and his hair was like the corn when it is ripe. There was a falcon on his wrist because he was one of the king's pages of the hunt. Many a night he had held a torchlight for the king and had shouted, 'Hallali!' when the greedy pack caugh

burst of flames made the pewter utensils above the mantel shine like diamonds and brought out the crimson gleam of the woven rug that covered Mother Barbette's four-poster bed. Pince Nez, the crow, who had been asleep with hi

ce

e not, Little Mademoiselle?" he asked her. She sat looking down at her hands which were folded in her lap. She did not answer him or look up at him, for there were tears in her eyes and she did

he trouble that had come to his master. He thought of the page night and day. He wished more than he had ever wish

herd's voice and the next instant the door opened and

oung ladies and Madame le Pont were uneasy about you. Madam

his familiar house uniform of red and gold. It did not seem possible that he could ever have worn the queer, shabby disguise in which he had come back from Paris. He looked very pale and ill. No one but the shepherd knew of the dire peril

apped her cloak about her and pulled the cape up over her curls. She walked quietly, holding Dian's hand so that he might steady her ste

hose she loved. Now, suddenly, she was awake, and because it was her nature to do things thoroughly she was very much awake indeed. She knew, as she walked back under the moonless sky toward Les Vignes, where the lights shone faintly, that she would never be the same li

pping against her windows. When the clock struck twelve she sat up in bed and listened. She had opened the window a little way because she loved to feel the swee

use the wind changed freakishly, or because the voices had gone on down the driveway, Marie Josephine did not hear another word. She jumped out of bed and ra

ow, but the next moment she was sobbing with Cécile's arms about her. Before she realized it she was in bed, tucked up warmly, with Cécile close beside

Paris? Do you think that is what I overheard, Cécile?"

gone, and we must pray

be. She put her face down on the pillow beside Marie Josephine and they both

seemed happy, just playing with him, and I was glad for you, but

look upon me as a baby, the way the rest do," Marie Josep

ou think and dream when we are only sitting by and sewing. Perhaps it is because you

e of Lisle, I know he will." Marie Josephine

amonds and his jeweled sword, of the minuet which they had danced together at the bal masqué on that last strange, happy evening. Dian was on his way to help; for that she was thankful. Had she known of Humphrey Trail, in

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