“Oh, madame, you are too kind!” Honor had just been wishing that Stephanie and Vivette could see these marvelous little cakes, with the pink and green frosting. “You--you _comble_ me!”
Honor meant “overwhelm”; when she forgot an English word, she Anglicized the French one; it was quite simple, when one understood. Mrs. Damian appeared to understand, for she repeated “comble” with her rustling laugh.
“I was a schoolgirl myself before the Flood! Would your teacher let the girls have some ice-cream? Alphonse, a mold of this--two quarts--in the carriage at eight o’clock, with the cakes. My compliments to--what’s her name? Madame Madeleine, and I trust she will permit a little treat, before bed-time. So! Now, Honor, come and sit beside me on this sofa. I have done all the talking hitherto; now I must rest, and you shall talk.”
Honor was stricken dumb: she gazed at her hostess, mute and round-eyed.
“Talk!” said Mrs. Damian sharply. “You are not deaf? Nor dumb? Very well!” She settled herself among a pile of satin cushions.
“Pardon, madame!” faltered Honor. “Of what shall I talk? I--I know so little--”
“Talk of what interests you! Talk to Miss Folly; I shall take forty winks. Tell her what you want to do when you leave school!”
“I shall like to hear that!” Miss Folly spoke in her pleasant, cordial voice. “I used to make all kinds of plans when I was at school. For some time, I meant to be a circus rider, but I decided to be a lion-tamer instead. What is your ambition, Miss Honor?”
Singular it is, that so often a strange hand is needed to turn the key of a heart! Not to Madame or Soeur Séraphine, the friends of all her child-life; not to Stephanie or Vivette, her friends and intimates; not--no, not even to the mountain friends themselves, toward whom her heart was constantly yearning, could Honor have opened the door of her longing hope; but here was a bright-eyed stranger, who with a glance, a few kindly questions, plucked out the heart of her mystery. Out it came, pouring in a torrent all the swifter for the weeks of silence.
“And--and I am strong, you see; and there is no one in all the world who needs me--but no one! and I love it so; and--and when Atli and Gretli are married, Zitli will be all alone, and he is lame, and I would be his sister, and keep house and cook while he takes care of the stock; I can make cheese already, and pancakes--and--”