She followed him up the large staircase, and through a suite of apartments sufficiently grand to intimidate her young imagination.

“Madame est dans son cabinet.  Entrez—­mais entrez donc, entrez toujours.”

Madame de Fleury was more richly dressed than usual; and her image was reflected in the large looking-glass, so that at the first moment Victoire thought she saw many fine ladies, but not one of them the lady she wanted.

“Well, Victoire, my child, what is the matter?”

“Oh, it is her voice!—­I know you now, madame, and I am not afraid—­not afraid even to tell you how foolish I have been.  Sister Frances trusted me to carry for you, madame, a beautiful pot of jonquils, and she desired me not to stop on the way to stare; but I did stop to look at the lamps on the bridge, and I forgot the jonquils, and somebody brushed by me and threw them into the river—­and I am very sorry I was so foolish.”

“And I am very glad that you are so wise as to tell the truth, without attempting to make any paltry excuses.  Go home to Sister Frances, and assure her that I am more obliged to her for making you such an honest girl than I could be for a whole bed of jonquils.”

Victoire’s heart was so full that she could not speak—­she kissed Madame de Fleury’s hand in silence, and then seemed to be lost in contemplation of her bracelet.

“Are you thinking, Victoire, that you should be much happier if you had such bracelets as these?  Believe me, you are mistaken if you think so; many people are unhappy who wear fine bracelets; so, my child, content yourself.”

“Myself!  Oh, madame, I was not thinking of myself—­I was not wishing for bracelets; I was only thinking that—­”

“That what?”

“That it is a pity you are so very rich; you have everything in this world that you want, and I can never be of the least use to you—­all my life I shall never be able to do you any good—­and what,” said Victoire, turning away to hide her tears, “what signifies the gratitude of such a poor little creature as I am?”

“Did you never hear the fable of the lion and the mouse, Victoire?”

“No, madame—­never!”

“Then I will tell it to you.”

Victoire looked up with eyes of eager expectation—­Francois opened the door to announce that the Marquis de M—–­ and the Comte de S—–­ were in the saloon; but Madame de Fleury stayed to tell Victoire her fable—­she would not lose the opportunity of making an impression upon this child’s heart.

It is whilst the mind is warm that the deepest impressions can be made.  Seizing the happy moment sometimes decides the character and the fate of a child.  In this respect, what advantages have the rich and great in educating the children of the poor! they have the power which their rank and all its decorations obtain over the imagination.  Their smiles are favours; their words are listened to as oracular; they are looked up to as beings of a superior order.  Their powers of working good are almost as great, though not quite so wonderful, as those formerly attributed to beneficent, fairies.