OF THE FOREST. 67

“Most willingly,” I replied. “But for
what purpose, my child ?”

She smiled, and with a sweet innocent air
repeated these words from an ancient ballad
of her own province :—

“The garden is gay with the gaudy weed,

And attired like the jewell’d queen:
But the flowers of the forest are fair indeed, ,
Though ofttimes doom’d to blow unseen.”

The words, “Charming little creature!
what innocent device has that gentle bosom
now conceived?” were upon my lips; but I
did not utter my thoughts, and simply an-
swered, “I will be at the garden gate before
six o'clock to-morrow morning, my dear
Aimée ; be sure that you are punctual.”

The dew was still upon the herbage, and
glistening on every leaf, as I knocked at the
garden gate ; it was opened at the first signal
by the little maiden; she ran out to me all
prepared for her appointment, with a neat
basket in her hand.

“Good morning, lady fair,” I said; “a
blessing from above be upon my little girl.
But whither are we to bend our steps?”