Jeanne pricked up her ears at this, and glanced at her mother
inquiringly. Instantly there started into her mind Marcelline's prophecy
about her wish.

"The naughty little Marcelline!" she thought to herself. "She has been
tricking me. I believe she knew something was going to happen. Mamma, my
dear mamma!" she cried, eagerly but respectfully, "have you something to
tell me? Have you had letters, mamma, from the country, where the
little cousin lives?"

Jeanne's mother softly stroked the cheeks, red enough now, of her
excited little daughter.

"Yes, my child," she replied. "I have had a letter. It was for that I
sent for you--to tell you about it. I have a letter from the grandfather
of Hugh, with whom he has lived since his parents died, and he accepts
my invitation. Hugh is to come to live with us, as his mother would have
wished. His grandfather can spare him, for he has other grandchildren,
and we need him, do we not, my Jeanne? My little girl needs a little
brother--and I loved his mother so much," she added in a lower voice.

Jeanne could not speak. Her face was glowing with excitement, her breath
came quick and short, almost, it seemed, as if she were going to cry.
"O, mamma!" was all she could say--"O mamma!" but her mother understood
her.

"And when will he come?" asked Jeanne next.

"Soon, I hope. In a few days; but it depends on the weather greatly. The
snow has stopped the diligences in several places, they say; but his