ession; a light breeze played with the scarfs of the women, and
the plumes in their bonnets; all around was noise, movement, sunshine.
Adrienne, leaning back in her carriage, amused herself with watching
this busy scene, sparkling with Parisian luxury; but, in the vortex
of this brilliant chaos, she saw in thought the mild, melancholy
countenance of Djalma--when suddenly something fell into her lap, and
she started. It was a bunch of half-faded violets. At the same instant
she heard a child's voice following the carriage, and saying: "For the
love of heaven, my good lady, one little sou!" Adrienne turned her head,
and saw a poor little girl, pale and wan, with mild, sorrowful features,
scarcely covered with rags, holding out her hand, and raising her eyes
in supplication. Though the striking contrast of extreme misery, side
by side with extreme luxury, is so common, that it no longer excites
attention, Adrienne was deeply affected by it. She thought of Mother
Bunch, now, perhaps, the victim of frightful destitution.

"Ah! at least," thought the young lady, "let not this day be one of
happiness for me alone!"

She leaned from the carriage-window, and said to the poor child: "Have
you a mother, my dear?"

"No, my lady, I have neither father nor mother."

"Who takes care of you?"

"No one, my lady. They give me nosegays to sell, and I must bring home
money--or they beat me."

"Poor little thing!"

"A sou, my good lady--a sou, for the love of heaven!" said the child,
continuing to follow the carriage, which was then moving slowly.

"My dear count," said Adrienne, smiling, and addressing M. de Montbron,
"you are, unfortunately, no novice at an elopement. Please to stretch
forth your arms, take up that child with both hands, and lift her into
the carriage. We can hide her between Lady de Morinval and myself; and
we can drive away before any one perceives this audacious abduction."

"What!" said the count, in surprise. "You wish--"

"Yes; I beg you to do it."

"What a folly!"

"Yesterday, you might, perhaps, have treated this caprice as a folly;
but to-day," said Adrienne, laying great stress upon the word, and
glancing at M. de Montbron with a significant air, "to-day, you should
understand that it is almost a duty."

"Yes, I understand you, good and noble heart!" said the count,
with emotion; while Lady de Morinval, who knew nothing of Mdlle. de
Cardoville's love for Djalma, looked with as much surprise as cu