other Bunch had opposed to the perfidious temptations of the
superior of St. Mary's Convent, and knowing the deep devotion of this
generous creature for Agricola--a devotion which for some days she had
so bravely extended to Mdlle. de Cardoville--the Jesuit did not like
to see the latter thus laboring to increase that affection. He thought,
wisely, that one should never despise friend or enemy, however small
they may appear. Now, devotion to Mdlle. de Cardoville constituted an
enemy in his eyes; and we know, moreover, that Rodin combined in
his character rare firmness, with a certain degree of superstitious
weakness, and he now felt uneasy at the singular impression of fear
which Mother Bunch inspired in him. He determined to recollect this
presentiment.

Delicate natures sometimes display in the smallest things the most
charming instincts of grace and goodness. Thus, when the sewing-girl was
shedding abundant and sweet tears of gratitude, Adrienne took a richly
embroidered handkerchief, and dried the pale and melancholy face. This
action, so simple and spontaneous, spared the work-girl one humiliation;
for, alas! humiliation and suffering are the two gulfs, along the edge
of which misfortune continually passes. Therefore, the least kindness is
in general a double benefit to the unfortunate. Perhaps the reader may
smile in disdain at the puerile circumstance we mention. But poor
Mother Bunch, not venturing to take from her pocket her old ragged
handkerchief, would long have remained blinded by her tears, if Mdlle.
de Cardoville had not come to her aid.

"Oh! you are so good--so nobly charitable, lady!" was all that the
sempstress could say, in a tone of deep emotion; for she was still more
touched by the attention of the young lady, than she would perhaps have
been by a service rendered.

"Look there, sir," said Adrienne to Rodin, who drew near hastily.
"Yes," added the young patrician, proudly, "I have indeed discovered
a treasure. Look at her, sir; and love her as I love her, honor as I
honor. She has one of those hearts for which we are seeking."

"And which, thank heaven, we are still able to find, my dear young
lady!" said Rodin, as he bowed to the needle-woman.

The latter raised her eyes slowly, and locked at the Jesuit. At sight of
that cadaverous countenance, which was smiling benignantly upon her, the
young girl started. It was strange! she had never seen this man, and
yet she felt instantly the same fear