“You know, Charlotte, yesterday a new play by Emile Angier was produced; it was simply my Pommes D’Atlante.”
“But that is outrageous! I will write myself to this Monsieur Angier,” said poor Lottie, in a great state of indignation.
During these remarks, Jack said not one word; but as D’Argenton lashed himself into frenzy, his old antipathy to the child revived, and the heavy frowns with which he glanced toward the little fellow showed him very clearly that his hatred was only smothered, and would burst forth on the smallest provocation.
CHAPTER X.
THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF BÉLISAIRE.
One afternoon, when D’Argenton and Charlotte had gone to drive, Jack, who was alone with Mother Archambauld, saw that he must relinquish his usual excursion to the forest on account of a storm that was coming up.
The July sky was heavy with black clouds, copper-colored on the edges; distant rumblings of thunder were heard, and the valley had that air of expectation which often precedes a storm.
Fatigued by the child’s restlessness, the forester’s wife looked out at the weather, and said to Jack,—
“Come, Master Jack, it does not rain; and it would be very kind of you to go and get me a little grass for my rabbits.”
The child, enchanted at being of use, took a basket and went gayly off to search in a ditch for the food the rabbits liked.
The white road stretched before him, the rising wind blew the dust in clouds, when suddenly Jack heard a voice crying, “Hats! Hats to sell! Nice Panamas!”