THAT evening, when the tour of the factories was over, instead of returning to his office as was his custom, M. Vulfran told Perrine to drive straight to the chateau.

For the first time she passed through the magnificent iron gates, a masterpiece of skill that a king had coveted, so it was said, these wonderful iron gates which one of France's richest merchants had bought for his chateau.

"Follow the main driveway," said M. Vulfran.

For the first time also she saw close to the beautiful flowers and the velvety lawns which until then she had only seen from a distance. The beautiful blossoms, red and pink masses, seemed like great splashes on the verdure. Accustomed to take this road, old Coco trotted along calmly, and as there was no occasion to guide her, Perrine was able to gaze right and left of her and admire the flowers, plants and shrubs in all their beauty. Although their master could not see them as formerly, the same attention and skill was showered upon them.

Of her own accord, Coco stopped before the wide steps where an old servant, warned by the lodge-keeper's bell, stood waiting.

"Are you there, Bastien?" asked M. Vulfran, without getting down.

"Yes, sir."

"Then take this young girl to the butterfly room, which is to be hers in the future. See that everything is given to her that she needs. Set her plate opposite to mine at table. Now send Felix to me. I want him to drive me to the office."

Perrine thought that she was dreaming.

"We dine at eight o'clock," said M. Vulfran. "Until then you are free to do as you like."

She got out of the carriage quickly and followed the old butler. She was so dazed that it was as though she had suddenly been set down in an enchanted palace.

And was not this beautiful chateau like a palace? The monumental hall, from which rose a wonderful stairway of white marble, up which ran a crimson carpet, was a delight to the eyes. On each landing exquisite flowers and plants were grouped artistically in pots and jardinieres. Their perfume filled the air.

Bastien took her to the second floor, and without entering opened the door of a room for her.

"I'll send the chambermaid to you," he said, leaving her.

She passed through a somber little hall, then found herself in a very large room draped with ivory colored cretonne patterned with butterflies in vivid shades. The furniture was ivory colored wood, and the carpet gray, with clusters of wild flowers, primrose, poppies, cornflowers and buttercups.

How pretty and dainty it was!

She was still in a dream, pushing her feet into the soft carpet, when the maid entered.

"Bastien told me that I was to be at your service, mademoiselle," she said.

Here stood a chambermaid in a clean light dress and a muslin cap at her service ... she who only a few days before had slept in a hut on a bed of ferns with rats and frogs scampering about her.

"Thank you," she said at last, collecting her wits, "but I do not need anything ... at least I think not."

"If you like I will show you the apartment," said the maid.

What she meant by "show the apartment" was to throw open the doors of a big wardrobe with glass doors, and a closet, then to pull out the drawers of the dressing table in which were brushes, scissors, soaps and bottles, etc. That done, she showed Perrine two knobs on the wall.

"This one is for the lights," she said, flashing on the electric light, "and this one is the bell if you need anything.

"If you need Bastien," she explained, "you have to ring once, and if you need me, ring twice."

How much had happened in a few hours! Who would have thought when she took her stand against Theodore and Talouel that the wind was going to blow so favorably in her direction. How amusing it was ... their ill feeling towards her had itself brought her this good luck.

"I suppose that young girl did something foolish?" said Talouel, meeting his employer at the foot of the steps. "I see she has not returned with you."

"Oh, no; she did not," replied M. Vulfran.

"But if Felix drove you back?..."

"As I passed the chateau I dropped her there so that she would have time to get ready for dinner."

"Dinner? Oh, I suppose...."

He was gasping with amazement, and for once he could not say what he did suppose.

"You do nothing but 'suppose'," said M. Vulfran, tartly. "I may as well tell you that for a long time I have wanted someone intelligent to be near me, one who is discreet and whom I can trust. This young girl seems to have these qualities. I am sure that she is intelligent, and I have already had the proof that I can trust her."

M. Vulfran's tone was significant. Talouel could not misunderstand the sense of his words.

"I am taking her to live with me," continued M. Vulfran, "because I know that there are those who are trying to tempt her. She is not one to yield, but I do not intend that she should run any risk at their hands."

These words were said with even greater significance.

"She will stay with me altogether now," continued M. Vulfran. "She will work here in my office; during the day she will accompany me; she will eat at my table. I shall not be so lonesome at my meals, for her chatter will entertain me."

"I suppose she will give you all the satisfaction that you expect," remarked Talouel suavely.

"I suppose so also," replied his employer, very drily.

Meanwhile Perrine, leaning with her elbows on the window sill, looked out dreamily over the beautiful garden, at the factories beyond the village with its houses and church, the meadows in which the silvery water glistened in the oblique rays of the setting sun; and then her eyes turned in the opposite direction, to the woods where she had sat down the day she had come, and where in the evening breeze she had seemed to hear the soft voice of her mother murmuring, "I know you will be happy."

Her dear mother had foreseen the future, and the big daisies had also spoken true. Yes, she was beginning to be happy. She must be patient and all would come right in time. She need not hurry matters now. There was no poverty, no hunger or thirst, in this beautiful chateau where she had entered so quickly.

When the factory whistle announced the closing hour she was still standing at her window, deep in thought. The piercing whistle recalled her from the future to the present.

Along the white roads between the fields she saw a black swarm of workers, first a great compact mass, then gradually it grew smaller, as they dwindled off in different directions in groups towards their homes.

Old Coco's gentle trot was soon heard on the drive, and Perrine saw her blind grandfather returning to his home.

She gave herself a real wash with eau de Cologne as well as soap, a delicious perfume soap. It was not until the clock on the mantle shelf struck eight that she went down.

She wondered how she would find the dining room. She did not have to look for it, however. A footman in a black coat, who was standing in the hall, showed her the way. Almost immediately M. Vulfran came in. No one guided him. He seemed to have no difficulty in finding his way to his seat.

A bowl of beautiful orchids stood in the middle of the table, which was covered with massive silver and cut glass, which gleamed in the lights that fell from the crystal chandelier.

For a moment she stood behind her chair, not knowing what to do. M. Vulfran seemed to sense her attitude.

"Sit down," he said.

The dinner was served at once. The servant who had shown her the way to the dining room put a plate of soup before her, while Bastien brought another to his master which was full to the brim.

If she had been dining there alone with M. Vulfran she would have been quite at her ease, but the inquisitive glances the servants cast at her made her feel deeply embarrassed. Probably they were wondering how a little tramp like her would eat.

Fortunately, however, she made no mistakes.

The dinner was very simple—soup, roast lamb, green peas and salad—but there was abundance of dessert ... two or three raised stands of delicious fruit and cakes.

"Tomorrow, if you like, you may go and see the hot houses where these fruits are grown," said M. Vulfran.

Perrine thanked him and said she would like to.

She had commenced by helping herself discreetly to some cherries. M. Vulfran wished her also to take some apricots, peaches and grapes.

"Take all you want," he said. "At your age I should have eaten all the fruit that is on the table ... if it had been offered to me."

Bastien selected an apricot and peach and placed them before Perrine as he might have done for an intelligent monkey, just to see how the "little animal" would eat.

But despite the delicious fruit, Perrine was very pleased when the dinner came to an end. She hoped that the next day the servants would not stare so much.

"Now you are free until tomorrow," said M. Vulfran, rising from his seat. "It is moonlight, and you can go for a stroll in the garden, or read in the library, or take a book up to your own room."

She was embarrassed, wondering if she ought not to tell M. Vulfran that she would do as he wished. While she stood hesitating she saw Bastien making signs to her which at first she did not understand. He held an imaginary book in one hand and appeared to be turning the pages with the other, then glanced at M. Vulfran and moved his lips as though he were reading. Suddenly Perrine understood. She was to ask if she might read to him.

"But don't you need me, sir?" she said, timidly. "Would you not like me to read to you?"

Bastien nodded his head in approval. He seemed delighted that she had guessed what he had tried to explain.

"Oh, you need some time to yourself," replied M. Vulfran.

"I assure you that I am not at all tired," said Perrine.

"Very well, then," said the blind man; "follow me into the study."

The library was a big somber room separated from the dining room by the hall. There was a strip of carpet laid from one room to the other, which was a guide for the blind man. He now walked direct to the room opposite.

Perrine had wondered how he spent his time when he was alone, as he could not read. From the appearance of the room one could not guess, for the large table was covered with papers and magazines. Before the window stood a large Voltaire chair, upholstered in tapestry. The chair was rather worn. This seemed to indicate that the blind man sat for long hours face to face with the sky, the clouds of which he could never see.

"What could you read to me?" he asked Perrine.

"A newspaper," she said, "if you wish. There are some on the table."

"The less time one gives to the newspapers the better," he replied. "Do you like books on travels?"

"Yes, sir; I do," she said.

"I do, too," he said. "They amuse one as well as instruct one."

Then, as though speaking to himself, as though unaware of her presence, he said softly: "Get away from yourself. Get interested in another life than your own."

"We'll read from 'Around the World'," he said. He led her to a bookcase which contained several volumes on travels and told her to look in the index.

"What shall I look for?" she asked.

"Look in the I's ... for the word India."

Thus he was following his own thoughts. How could he live the life of another? His one thought was of his son. He now wanted to read about the country where his boy lived.

"Tell me what you find," he said.

She read aloud the various headings concerning India. He told her which volume to take. As she was about to take it she stood as though transfixed, gazing at a portrait hanging over the fireplace which her eyes, gradually becoming accustomed to the dim light, had not seen before.

"Why are you silent?" he asked.

"I am looking at the portrait over the mantel shelf," she said, in a trembling voice.

"That was my son when he was twenty," said the old gentleman; "but you can't see it very well. I'll light up."

He touched the electric knob and the room was flooded with light. Perrine, who had taken a few steps nearer, uttered a cry and let the book of travels fall to the floor.

"What is the matter?" he asked.

She did not reply, but stood there with her eyes fixed on the picture of a fair young man dressed in a hunting suit leaning with one hand on a gun and the other stroking the head of a black spaniel.

There was silence in the room, then the blind man heard a little sob.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

Perrine did not reply for a moment. With an effort she tried to control her emotion.

"It is the picture ... your son ... you are his father?" she stammered.

At first he did not understand, then in a voice that was strangely sympathetic he said:

"And you ... you were thinking of your father, perhaps?"

"Yes, yes, sir; I was."

"Poor little girl," he murmured.