smith in despair, as he rushed down the stairs, leaving Mdlle.
de Cardoville still kneeling by the side of the mattress.

BOOK X.

XXXIII. Confessions XXXIV. More Confessions XXXV. The Rivals
XXXVI. The Interview XXXVII. Soothing Words XXXVIII. The Two
Carriages XXXIX. The Appointment XL. Anxiety XLI. Adrienne
and Djalma XLII. "The Imitation" XLIII. Prayer XLIV.
Remembrances XLV. The Blockhead XLVI. The Anonymous Letters
XLVII. The Golden City XLVIII. The Stung Lion XLIX. The Test

CHAPTER XXXIII. CONFESSIONS.

During the painful scene that we have just described, a lively emotion
glowed in the countenance of Mdlle. de Cardoville, grown pale and thin
with sorrow. Her cheeks, once so full, were now slightly hollowed,
whilst a faint line of transparent azure encircled those large black
eyes, no longer so bright as formerly. But the charming lips, though
contracted by painful anxiety, had retained their rich and velvet
moisture. To attend more easily to Mother Bunch, Adrienne had thrown
aside her bonnet, and the silky waves of her beautiful golden hair
almost concealed her face as she bent over the mattress, rubbing the
thin, ivory hands of the poor sempstress, completely called to life by
the salubrious freshness of the air, and by the strong action of the
salts which Adrienne carried in her smelling-bottle. Luckily, Mother
Bunch had fainted, rather from emotion and weakness than from the
effects of suffocation, the senses of the unfortunate girl having
failed her before the deleterious gas had attained its highest degree of
intensity.

Before continuing the recital of the scene between the sempstress and
the patrician, a few retrospective words will be necessary. Since
the strange adventure at the theatre of the Porte-Saint-Martin, where
Djalma, at peril of his life, rushed upon the black panther in sight of
Mdlle. de Cardoville, the young lady had been deeply affected in various
ways. Forgetting her jealousy, and the humiliation she had suffered in
presence of Djalma--of Djalma exhibiting himself before every one with a
woman so little worthy of him--Adrienne was for a moment dazzled by the
chivalrous and heroic action of the prince, and said to herself: "In
spite of odious appearances, Djalma loves me enough to brave death in
order to pick up my nosegay."

But with a soul so delicate as that of this young lady, a character so
generous, and a mind so true, reflection was