ago. At last I fell asleep with grief
and hunger--at least, I suppose I did, for I was waked up suddenly by
feeling a hand laid upon my shoulder. I could not hear, because I had
my head tied up.

"The lamp had quite burned down, and the first grey of the morning
light might be seen from the window. And beside my chair I saw
Mamsell Gabrielle standing. I stared at her, for she had her little
straw-bonnet on, and her brown shawl pinned across her chest, and her
parasol in her hand. I really had some trouble to collect my thoughts
and remember what had happened. Meanwhile that sad gentle face of hers
had had time to melt the cruel crust of hate that had gathered about my
heart. I untied my handkerchief and got up. 'Good heavens! what have
you come here for? is it so late? have I been asleep?'

"'My dear Mamsell Flor,' she said, 'it is hardly four o'clock; I am
very sorry to disturb you, but I have something to say to you, and I
must say it. You were always so kind to me, it would hurt me to have
you think ill of me when I am gone, if you did not know my reasons for
the step I am about to take.'

"'What step?' I cried; 'What are you going to do? You are ready dressed
for a journey; you don't mean to go and leave the house in this way, in
the dark and cold? Your brother has not come back to fetch you.'"

"'I am going to him,' she said; 'I am going to beg him to take me away
with him--to the very end of the world, rather than leave me here. Oh!
that I had only had the courage to do so sooner! Miserable I might have
been, for I should have left my heart behind me, but I should not have
been sinful; and I could have looked you bravely in the face and said
good-bye to you, my dear kind friend, who have been a mother to me. I
know you will forgive me for all I have done, you are so good and
pitiful. But now you will shiver when you hear my name, and when you
think of one who has been the cause of all this misery, and made your
darling feel the greatest pain a man can feel. Dear Mamsell Flor, only
yesterday he told me that he loved me,--and I ... for many months I
have been his father's--'

"She stopped, as if in horror at the sound of her own words; and I who
but yesterday had been so full of rage and hate, Sir, a daughter of my
own could hardly have melted me so soon. She stood before me the very
picture of wretchedness, her bosom heaving, her eyes drooping, as
though she could not bear one ray of light to fall upon her and