The morning was warm, and she was wearing a white wrapper.

Her toilette was not wholly completed, but she was sufficiently picturesque.
"My dear Jeanne," she cried, "you have nearly sent us mad with anxiety.
How could you wander off like that!" Jeanne stood a little apart.

She avoided the Princess' hands.

She stood upon the soft turf with her hands clasped, her cheeks very pale, her eyes bright with some inward excitement.
"Do you wish me to answer that question ?" she said.
The Princess stared.
"What do you mean, my child ?" she exclaimed.
"You ask me," Jeanne said, "why I went wandering off into the marshes.
I will tell you.

It is because I am unhappy.