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with which she would devour； for preference； the quaint printed
volumes of romance and history that he would bring home to her from
his rare journeyings to the distant town。
It was when she was about thirteen that the ladies and gentlemen
came from Paris。 Of course they were not real ladies and gentlemen。
Only a little company of artists seeking new fields。 They had
〃done〃 the coast and the timbered houses of the narrow streets； and
one of them had suggested exploring the solitary； unknown inlands。
They came across her seated on an old grey stone reading from an
ancient…looking book； and she had risen and curtsied to them。 She
was never afraid。 It was she who excited fear。 Often she would
look after the children flying from her； feeling a little sad。 But；
of course； it could not be helped。 She was a fairy。 She would have
done them no harm； but this they could not be expected to
understand。 It was a delightful change； meeting human beings who
neither screamed nor hastily recited their paternosters； but who；
instead； returned one's smile。 They asked her where she lived； and
she showed them。 They were staying at Aven…a…Christ； and one of the
ladies was brave enough even to kiss her。 Laughing and talking they
all walked down the hill together。 They found Madame Lavigne
working in her garden。 Madame Lavigne washed her hands of all
responsibility。 It was for Suzanne to decide。 It seemed they
wanted to make a picture of her； sitting on the grey stone where
they had found her。 It was surely only kind to let them； so next
morning she was there again waiting for them。 They gave her a five…
franc piece。 Madame Lavigne was doubtful of handling it； but Father
Jean vouched for it as being good Republican money； and as the days
went by Madame Lavigne's black stocking grew heavier and heavier as
she hung it again each night in the chimney。
It was the lady who had first kissed her that discovered who she
was。 They had all of them felt sure from the beginning that she was
a fairy； and that 〃Suzanne〃 could not be her real name。 They found
it in the 〃Heptameron of Friar Bonnet。 In which is recorded the
numerous adventures of the valiant and puissant King Ryence of
Bretagne；〃 which one of them had picked up on the Quai aux Fleurs
and brought with him。 It told all about the White Ladies； and
therein she was described。 There could be no mistaking her； the
fair body that was like to a willow swayed by the wind。 The white
feet that could pass； leaving the dew unshaken from the grass。 The
eyes blue and deep as mountain lakes。 The golden locks of which the
sun was jealous。
It was all quite clear。 She was Malvina； once favourite to
Harbundia； Queen of the White Ladies of Brittany。 For reasons
further allusion to which politeness forbadeshe had been a
wanderer； no one knowing what had become of her。 And now the whim
had taken her to reappear as a little Breton peasant girl； near to
the scene of her past glories。 They knelt before her； offering her
homage； and all the ladies kissed her。 The gentlemen of the party
thought their turn would follow。 But it never did。 It was not
their own shyness that stood in their way： one must do them that
justice。 It was as if some youthful queen； exiled and unknown
amongst strangers； had been suddenly recognised by a little band of
her faithful subjects； passing by chance that way。 So that； instead
of frolic and laughter； as had been intended； they remained standing
with bared heads； and no one liked to be the first to speak。
She put them at their easeor tried towith a gracious gesture。
But enjoined upon them all her wish for secrecy。 And so dismissed
they seem to have returned to the village a marvellously sober
little party； experiencing all the sensations of honest folk
admitted to their first glimpse of high society。
They came again next yearat least a few of thembringing with
them a dress more worthy of Malvina's wearing。 It was as near as
Paris could achieve to the true and original costume as described by
the good Friar Bonnet； the which had been woven in a single night by
the wizard spider Karai out of moonlight。 Malvina accepted it with
gracious thanks； and was evidently pleased to find herself again in
fit and proper clothes。 It was hidden away for rare occasions where
only Malvina knew。 But the lady who had first kissed her； and whose
speciality was fairies； craving permission； Malvina consented to
wear it while sitting for her portrait。 The picture one may still
see in the Palais des Beaux Arts at Nantes （the Bretonne Room）。 It
represents her standing straight as an arrow； a lone little figure
in the centre of a treeless moor。 The painting of the robe is said
to be very wonderful。 〃Malvina of Brittany〃 is the inscription； the
date being Nineteen Hundred and Thirteen。
The next year Malvina was no longer there。 Madame Lavigne； folding
knotted hands； had muttered her last paternoster。 Pere Jean had
urged the convent。 But for the first time； with him； she had been
frankly obstinate。 Some fancy seemed to have got into the child's
head。 Something that she evidently connected with the vast treeless
moor rising southward to where the ancient menhir of King Taramis
crowned its summit。 The good man yielded； as usual。 For the
present there were Madame Lavigne's small savings。 Suzanne's wants
were but few。 The rare shopping necessary Father Jean could see to
himself。 With the coming of winter he would broach the subject
again； and then be quite firm。 Just these were the summer nights
when Suzanne loved to roam； and as for danger！ there was not a lad
for ten leagues round who would not have run a mile to avoid
passing； even in daylight； that cottage standing where the moor dips
down to the sealands。
But one surmises that even a fairy may feel lonesome。 Especially a
banished fairy； hanging as it were between earth and air； knowing
mortal maidens kissed and courted； while one's own companions kept
away from one in hiding。 Maybe the fancy came to her that； after
all these years； they might forgive her。 Still； it was their
meeting place； so legend ran； especially of midsummer nights。 Rare
it was now for human eye to catch a glimpse of the shimmering robes；
but high on the treeless moor to the music of the Lady of the
Fountain； one might still hear； were one brave enough to venture；
the rhythm of their dancing feet。 If she sought them； softly
calling； might they not reveal themselves to her； make room for her
once again in the whirling circle？ One has the idea that the
moonlight frock may have added to her hopes。 Philosophy admits that
feeling oneself well dressed gives confidence。
If all of them had not disappearedbeen kissed three times upon the
lips by mortal man and so become a woman？ It seems to have been a
possibility for which your White Lady had to be prepared。 That is；
if she chose to suffer it。 If not； it was unfortunate for the too
daring mortal。 But if he gained favour in her eyes！ That he was
brave； his wooing proved。 If； added thereto； he were comely； with
kind strong ways； and eyes that drew you？ History proves that such
dreams must have come even to White Ladies。 Maybe more especially
on midsummer nights when the moon is at its full。 It was on such a
night that Sir Gerylon had woke Malvina's sister Sighile with a
kiss。 A true White Lady must always dare to face her fate。
It seems to have befallen Malvina。 Some told Father Jean how he had
arrived in a chariot drawn by winged horses； the thunder of his
passing waking many in the sleeping villages beneath。 And others
how he had come in the form of a great bird。 Father Jean had heard
strange sounds himself； and certain it was that Suzanne had
disappeared。
Father Jean heard another version a few weeks later； told him by an
English officer of Engineers who had ridden from the nearest station
on a bicycle and who arrived hot and ravenously thirsty。 And Father
Jean； under promise of seeing Suzanne on the first opportunity；
believed it。 But to most of his flock it sounded an impossible
rigmarole； told for the purpose of disguising the truth。
So end