"Well, never mind, you are old enough to make stories, any way. Tell me
more about the country where you lived when you were little as I; the
country you will never tell me the name of. Oh, I do like that one about
the Golden Princess shut up in the castle by the sea! I like stories
about princesses best of all. I do wish I were a princess; next to my
best wish of all, I wish to be a princess. Marcelline, do you hear? I
want you to tell me a story."

Still Marcelline did not reply. She in her turn was looking into the
fire. Suddenly she spoke.

"One, two, three," she said. "Quick, now, Mademoiselle, quick, quick.
Wish a wish before that last spark is gone. Quick, Mademoiselle."

"Oh dear, what shall I wish?" exclaimed Jeanne. "When you tell me to be
quick it all goes out of my head; but I know now. I wish----"

"Hush, Mademoiselle," said Marcelline, quickly again. "You must not say
it aloud. Never mind, it is all right. You have wished it before the
spark is gone. It will come true, Mademoiselle."

Jeanne's bright dark eyes glanced up at Marcelline with an expression of
mingled curiosity and respect.

"How do you know it will come true?" she said.

Marcelline's old eyes, nearly as bright and dark still as Jeanne's own,
had a half-mischievous look in them as she replied, solemnly shaking her
head,