"As soon, however, as Jacques was out of sight, she came back into the path which ran at the bottom of the cottage garden, and there she saw little Margot seated on the bank under the hedge, with a nosegay in her hand.
"The little one was dressed in her clean Sunday clothes, in the fashion of the country, and she wore a full striped petticoat which Monique had spun of lamb's-wool, a white jacket with short sleeves like the body of a frock, and a flowered chintz apron. Her pretty hair was left to curl naturally, and no child could have had a fairer, softer, purer complexion.
"'Now,' thought Heister, 'I shall have it;' and she walked smilingly up to the child, and spoke fondly to her, asking her, 'where she got that pretty new apron?'
[Illustration: "_Margot rose and made a curtsey._"--Page 262.]
"Margot rose, made a curtsey, as she had been taught, and said:
"Heister praised her pretty face, her bright eyes, her nice curling hair; and then she asked her if she had any pretty flowers to give her.
"Margot immediately offered her nosegay, but she refused it, saying she did not want such flowers as those, but such curious ones as she sometimes found near the waterfall.
"'But you found a very curious one the other day, did you not, my pretty little damsel?' said Heister.
"'Yes, madame,' said Margot, brightening up; 'yes, madame, I did.'
"'Ay, I have it now,' thought Heister; and she patted the little one as she said, 'Was it not bright and shining like gold, and was there not something about it like moons?'
"'Oh, no, madame,' replied the child; 'it was some pretty blue flowers that come every year. Jacques said they are called gentians; but I call them fairies' eyes, for they are just the very colour I always fancy the fairy of the Hartsfell's eyes must be--they are so very blue.'
"'Well, well!' exclaimed Heister, hastily, 'I dare say they were very pretty; but did you not find something more curious on the mountains than flowers? What was it you found, that Monique praised you for finding, and told you you were a good child for giving it up to her?'
"'Oh! it was the wild strawberries,' cried Margot; 'the pretty mountain strawberries. Grandmother thanked me for bringing her home the strawberries, for she said she had not tasted them since she was a girl.'