Out on to the balcony stepped a young lady, a young girl rather she seemed, for she was tall and slight and had fair curls about her sweet fresh face.

She stood for one instant looking at us all as if bewildered, then, with a sudden cry, almost before we knew what she was doing, she was over the railings and down the bank.
"'Mademoiselle Jeanne or Mademoiselle Eliane!' she cried, 'which of you is it?
for it is one of you, I know! And you are _not_ dead--not all dead and gone--and there is Dudu, too.

Oh, how glad, how very glad, I am that I came!' "Laughing and crying both at once, she threw herself into Madame's arms, while Monsieur looked on in amazement.
"'You know me ?' she cried--'your little English Charlotte.

See, here is the bonbonniere,' feeling for it in her pocket as she spoke.

'And you are Mademoiselle Jeanne.