“There!” said she, “what thinkest thou of it, Felix?  Of a truth, I fancy somewhat is wanting, yet I know not how to better it!”

“Yes,” said Felix, bashfully; “it may be I can help thee.”

And so he set to work rearranging the little houses and figures, till he succeeded in giving quite a lifelike air to the creche, and Lady Elinor fairly danced with delight.

While placing the little manger he happened to remember the figure of the Christ Child still in his blouse pocket; this he timidly took out and showed the little girl, who was charmed, and still more so when he drew forth a small wooden sheep and a dog, which were also in the same pocket.

The Lady Elinor was so carried away with joy that she flew to the side of the count, and, grasping both his hands, dragged him across the room to show him the creche and the wonderful figures carved by Felix.

“See, mon pere!” said Elinor, “see this, and this!” And she held up the little carvings for the count’s inspection.

Count Bernard, who had good-naturedly crossed the room to please his little daughter, now opened his eyes wide with surprise.  He took the little figures she handed him and examined them closely, for he was a good judge of artistic work of this kind.  Then he looked at Felix, and at length he said: 

“Well, little forest bird, who taught thee the carver’s craft?”

“No one, sir,” faltered Felix; “indeed, I wish, above all things, to learn of the Pere Videau, the master carver; but my father says I must be a shepherd, as he is.”

Here a tear rolled down Felix’s cheek, for you must remember he was terribly tired.

“Well, well,” said the count, “never mind!  Thou art weary, little one; we will talk of this more on the morrow.  ’T is high time now that both of you were sound asleep.  Hey, there!  Jean!  Jacques!  Come hither and take care of this little lad, and see to it that he hath a soft bed and a feather pillow!”

The next morning the children ate a merry breakfast together, and after it Count Bernard took Felix aside and asked him many questions of his life and his home.  Then, by and by, knowing how anxious the boy’s parents would be, he ordered his trusty squire, Brian, to saddle a horse and conduct Felix back to Sur Varne.

Meantime the little Lady Elinor begged hard that he stay longer in the castle for her playfellow, and was quite heartbroken when she saw the horse stand ready in the courtyard.  Indeed, she would not be satisfied until her father, the count, who could not bear to see her unhappy, had promised to some day take her over to see Felix in Sur Varne.  Then she smiled, and made a pretty farewell courtesy, and suddenly snatching from her dark hair a crimson ribbon of Lyons taffeta, she tied it about Felix’s sleeve, declaring, “There! thou must keep this token, and be my little knight!” for the Lady Elinor had many lofty notions in her small curly head.