Even in the winter the ivy leaves and the close network of branches sufficed to shut off the view.  But the great charm of the garden lay in its having at the far end a few lofty trees, some magnificent elms, which concealed the grimy wall of a five-story house.  Amidst all the neighboring houses these trees gave the spot the aspect of a nook in some park, and seemed to increase the dimensions of this little Parisian garden, which was swept like a drawing-room.  Between two of the elms hung a swing, the seat of which was green with damp.

Helene leaned forward the better to view the scene.

“Oh, it is a hole!” exclaimed Madame Deberle carelessly.  “Still, trees are so rare in Paris that one is happy in having half a dozen of one’s own.”

“No, no, you have a very pleasant place,” murmured Helene.

The sun filled the pale atmosphere that day with a golden dust, its rays streaming slowly through the leafless branches of the trees.  These assumed a ruddier tint, and you could see the delicate purple gems softening the cold grey of the bark.  On the lawn and along the walks the grass and gravel glittered amidst the haze that seemed to ooze from the ground.  No flower was in blossom; only the happy flush which the sunshine cast upon the soil revealed the approach of spring.

“At this time of year it is rather dull,” resumed Madame Deberle.  “In June it is as cozy as a nest; the trees prevent any one from looking in, and we enjoy perfect privacy.”  At this point she paused to call:  “Lucien, you must come away from that watertap!”

The lad, who was doing the honors of the garden, had led Jeanne towards a tap under the steps.  Here he had turned on the water, which he allowed to splash on the tips of his boots.  It was a game that he delighted in.  Jeanne, with grave face, looked on while he wetted his feet.

“Wait a moment!” said Pauline, rising.  “I’ll go and stop his nonsense!”

But Juliette held her back.

“You’ll do no such thing; you are even more of a madcap than he is.  The other day both of you looked as if you had taken a bath.  How is it that a big girl like you cannot remain two minutes seated?  Lucien!” she continued directing her eyes on her son, “turn off the water at once!”

The child, in his fright, made an effort to obey her.  But instead of turning the tap off, he turned it on all the more, and the water gushed forth with a force and a noise that made him lose his head.  He recoiled, splashed up to the shoulders.

“Turn off the water at once!” again ordered his mother, whose cheeks were flushing with anger.

Jeanne, hitherto silent, then slowly, and with the greatest caution, ventured near the tap; while Lucien burst into loud sobbing at sight of this cold stream, which terrified him, and which he was powerless to stop.  Carefully drawing her skirt between her legs, Jeanne stretched out her bare hands so as not to wet her sleeves, and closed the tap without receiving a sprinkle.  The flow instantly ceased.  Lucien, astonished and inspired with respect, dried his tears and gazed with swollen eyes at the girl.