hedge of green trees exposed to the south, and which surrounded a stone
bench. "Will you sit down here a moment, La Louve?"

"Is there any need of asking me if I will?" answered the wife of Martial,
shrugging her shoulders.

Then, taking from her neck her shawl, she folded it carefully, knelt down,
laid it on the slightly damp gravel of the walk, and said to La Goualeuse:

"Place yourself there."

"But, La Louve," said Fleur-de-Marie, who had perceived the design of her
companion too late to prevent its execution, "but, La Louve, you will ruin
your shawl."

"None of your arguments! the ground is damp," said La Louve, and taking the
small feet of Fleur-de-Marie in her hands, she placed them on the shawl.

"How you spoil me, La Louve!"

"Hum! do you not deserve it; always contending against that which I wish to
do for your good. Are you not fatigued? here is a good half-hour that we
have been walking. Noon has just struck at Asnieres."

"I am slightly tired; but I feel that this walk has done me good."

"You see, you were tired--you could not ask me sooner to sit down!"

"Do not scold me--I did not know that I was so weak. It is so pleasant to
walk after having been confined to the bed so long--to see the sun, the