She looked as she had before over the valley and thought that nothing could be more beautiful.
In the moonlight she could see the shining silver of the rivers and distinguish the distant towers of Dijon.
There were many more twinkling lights than there had been the other evening.
She heard a faint knock on her door and, thinking it was Jeanne, called out,
“Come in.”
The door opened and she said without turning round,
“Do come and look at the moonlight, Jeanne. It’s impossible to think that anything could be lovelier!”
Jeanne did not answer and Yursa turned her head to see a strange maid.
“I thought you were Jeanne,” she exclaimed. “Is she off duty?”
“Non, m’mselle, but she’s hurt herself and she asks if you’ll come and see her.”
“But, of course!” Yursa said. “Has she had an accid
