People saw that Bebee had grown very quiet.

But that was all they saw.
Her little face was pale as she sat among her glowing autumn blossoms, by the side of the cobbler's stall; and when the Varnhart children cried at the gate to her to come and play, she would answer gently that she was too busy to have play-time now.
The fruit girl of the Montagne de la Cour hooted after her, "Gone so soon ?--oh he! what did I say ?--a fine pine is sugar in the teeth a second only, but the brown nuts you may crack all the seasons round.

Well, did you make good harvest while it lasted?
has Jeannot a fat bridal portion promised ?" And old Jehan, who was the tenderest soul of them all in the lane by the swans' water, would come and look at her wistfully as she worked among the flowers, and would say to her,-- "Dear little one, there is some trouble: does it come of that painted picture?
You never laugh now, Bebee, and that is bad.

A girl's laugh is pretty to hear; my girl laughed like little bells ringing--and then it stopped, all at once; they said she was dead.

But you are not dead, Bebee.