"'Why must not we, grandmother?' said Margot.
"'Because,' replied Monique, 'if any thieves were to hear that we had got so much money in the house, they might come some time when your father was out, and break open the chest and steal it.'
"'And perhaps they might kill us,' replied Margot, trembling all over.
"'We must not speak of it, then,' said Ella, 'to anyone.'
"'Our best way,' remarked Jacques, 'will be not to mention it to each other. We will never speak of it.'
"'How can we help it?' said Meeta; 'I can never help talking of what I am thinking about.'
"'That is a mistake of yours, Meeta,' said Monique; 'you never talk of some things which happened at Vienne, which you think would be no credit to you.'
"'You mean about our being so very poor, and being forced to sell our clothes, grandmother? I don't think that I should go to talk of that to strangers.'
"'Then you can keep some things to yourself, Meeta,' said Monique; 'and we shall not excuse you if you are so imprudent as to let out this affair of the treasure we have found to anyone.'
"'Don't fear me, grandmother,' returned Meeta; 'nobody shall hear from me--but we must watch little Margot.'
"That same evening, Martin Stolberg carried the purse and all the contents down to the house of the good pastor. He gave as his reason for so doing, that, being himself somewhat pressed for money, he did not dare to trust himself with this treasure."
[Illustration: Going gaily down the hill]
Lucy had read first, and when she had finished the half of the story, Mrs. Fairchild proposed that they should take what was in the basket, before they went on to the second part.
Mr. Fairchild was called in, and Mrs. Fairchild served each person from the store.
"I am quite sure," said Emily, "that Monique Stolberg never made nicer cakes than these."
"Papa," said Lucy, "I cannot help thinking that your book is not half so pretty as ours. You don't know what a pleasant story we have been reading, and we have half of it left to read. Shall I tell it to you, papa?" she added; and springing up, she placed herself close to him, putting one arm round his neck, and in a few minutes she made him as well acquainted with Monique, and Martin, and Ella, and Meeta, and Jacques, and Margot, and Heister Kamp, and Father St. Goar, as she was herself; "and now, papa," she said, "will any of the children, do you think, betray the secret?"