I got out of my carriage to walk about, and at last sat down on a bench.

I can show you the spot at this hour.

While I sat there a child came wandering along the path--a little girl of four or five, very fantastically dressed in crimson and orange.

She stopped in front of me and stared at me, and I stared at her queer little dress, which was a cheap imitation of the costume of one of these contadine.

At last I looked up at her face, and said to myself, 'Bless me, what a beautiful child! what a splendid pair of eyes, what a magnificent head of hair! If my poor Christina were only like that!' The child turned away slowly, but looking back with its eyes fixed on me.
All of a sudden I gave a cry, pounced on it, pressed it in my arms, and covered it with kisses.