She was accompanied by a little girl of the village, carrying a basket full of primroses and freshly gathered ground ivy.  Reine was quite familiar with all the medicinal herbs of the country, and gathered them in their season, in order to administer them as required to the people of the farm.  When she was within a few feet of Julien, she recognized him, and her brow clouded over; but almost immediately she noticed his altered features and that one of his feet was shoeless, and divined that something unusual had happened.  Going straight up to him, she said: 

“You seem to be suffering, Monsieur de Buxieres.  What is the matter?”

“A—­a foolish accident,” replied he, putting on a careless manner.  “I fell and sprained my ankle.”

The young girl knit her brows with an anxious expression; then, after a moment’s hesitation; she said: 

“Will you let me see your foot?  My mother understood about bone-setting, and I have been told that I inherit her gift of curing sprains.”

She drew from the basket an empty bottle and a handkerchief.

“Zelie,” said she to the little damsel, who was standing astonished at the colloquy, “go quickly down to the stream, and fill this bottle.”

While she was speaking, Julien, greatly embarrassed, obeyed her suggestions, and uncovered his foot.  Reine, without any prudery or nonsense, raised the wounded limb, and felt around cautiously.

“I think,” said she at last, “that the muscles are somewhat injured.”

Without another word, she tore the handkerchief into narrow strips, and poured the contents of the bottle, which Zelie had filled, slowly over the injure member, holding her hand high for that purpose.  Then, with a soft yet firm touch, she pressed the injured muscles into their places, while Julien bit his lips and did his very utmost to prevent her seeing how much he was suffering.  After this massage treatment, the young girl bandaged the ankle tightly with the linen bands, and fastened them securely with pins.

“There,” said she, “now try to put on your shoe and stocking; they will give support to the muscles.  Now you, Zelie, run, fit to break your neck, to the farm, make them harness the wagon, and tell them to bring it here, as close to the path as possible.”

The girl picked up her basket and started on a trot.

“Monsieur de Buxieres;” said Reine, “do you think you can walk as far as the carriage road, by leaning on my arm?”

“Yes;” he replied, with a grateful glance which greatly embarrassed Mademoiselle Vincart, “you have relieved me as if by a miracle.  I feel much better and as if I could go anywhere you might lead, while leaning on your arm!”

She helped him to rise, and he took a few steps with her aid.

“Why, it feels really better,” sighed he.

He was so happy in feeling himself thus tenderly supported by Reine, that he altogether forgot his pain.