And below the dress, which reached just below the knees--Nepeese had quite forgotten the proper length, or else her material had run out--came the coup de maitre of her toilet, real stockings and the gay shoes with high heels! She was a vision before which the gods of the forests might have felt their hearts stop beating.

Pierrot turned her round and round without a word, but smiling.

When she left him, however, followed by Baree, and limping a little because of the tightness of her shoes, the smile faded from his face, leaving it cold and bleak.
"Mon Dieu," he whispered to himself in French, with a thought that was like a sharp stab at his heart, "she is not of her mother's blood--non.
It is French.

She is--yes--like an angel." A change had come over Pierrot.

During the three days she had been engaged in her dressmaking, Nepeese had been quite too excited to notice this change, and Pierrot had tried to keep it from her.