"Don't be frightened, little one," continued the old gentleman, caressingly. "Come and play in these gardens whenever you like. Tell Le Notre to give you prettier flowers than these to make chains of, and when you get older, try to leave off turning the heads of my pages with your brown curls and cherry lips. As for you, sir," he added, facing round upon George, "I have seldom seen any of you so innocently employed. Take care of this pretty little girl till her bonne comes to fetch her, and show them both the place from whence they can see the king at dinner. How does the king dine to-day, sir? and when?" he concluded, in a sharper and sterner tone. George was equal to the occasion.
"There is no council to-day, sire," he answered, without hesitation. "His Majesty has ordered 'The Little Service'[1] this morning, and will dine in seventeen minutes exactly, for I hear the Grey Musketeers already relieving guard in the Front Court."
"Go, sir," exclaimed the old gentleman, in great good-humour. "You have learnt your duty better than I expected. I think I may trust you with the care of this pretty child. Few pages know anything of etiquette or the necessary routine of a Court. I am satisfied with you. Do you understand?"
The boy's cheeks flushed once more, as he bowed low and stood silent, whilst the old gentleman passed on. The latter, however, had not gone half-a-dozen paces ere he turned back, and again addressed the younger of the children.
"Do not forget, little one, to ask Le Notre for any flowers you want, and—and—if you think of it, tell mamma you met the honest bourgeois who owns these gardens, and that he knew you, and knew your name, and knew how old you were, and, I dare say, little one, you are surprised the bourgeois should know so much!"
That Cerise was surprised admitted of small doubt. She had scarcely found her voice ere the old gentleman turned out of the alley and disappeared. Then she looked at her companion, whose cheeks were still glowing with excitement, and presently burst into a peal of childish laughter.
"What a funny old man!" cried Cerise, clapping her
- ↑ Au petit couvert.
