the real secret of
its connection with your feelings; for I confess, like that of
Desdemona's, it has excited distrust, though for a very different
cause."

The cheeks of Mademoiselle Hennequin were pale, and her brow
thoughtful. Still, she had a sweet smile for Betts; and, though
ignorant of the nature of his suspicions, which she would have scarcely
pardoned, it was her strongest wish to leave no darker cloud between
them, than the one she felt it her duty to place there herself. She
answered, therefore, frankly and simply, though not without betraying
strong emotion as she proceeded.

"This handkerchief is well known to me," answered the young French
woman; "it revives the recollections of some of the most painful scenes
of a life that has never seen much sunshine. You have heard me speak of
a grandmother, Mr. Shoreham, who took care of my childhood, and who
died in my arms. That handkerchief, I worked for her support in her
last illness, and this lace--yes, this beautiful lace was a part of
that beloved grandmother's bridal trousseau. I put it where you see it,
to enhance the value of my labors."

"I see it all!" exclaimed the repentant Betts--"FEEL it all, dearest,
dearest Mademoiselle Hennequin; and I hope this exquisite work, this
refined taste brought all the comfort and reward you had a right to
anticipate."

A shade of anguish crossed the face of Adrienne--for it was no
other--as she gazed at me, and recalled all the scenes of her
sufferings and distress. Then I knew her again, for time and a poor
memory, with some development of person, had caused me to forget the
appearance of the lovely creature who may be said to have made me what
I am; but one glance at her, with that expression of intense suffering
on her countenance, renewed all my earlier impressions.

"I received as much as I merited, perhaps," returned the meek-minded
girl--for she was proud only in insisting on what she fancied
right--"and enough to give my venerated parent Christian burial. They
were days of want and sorrow that succeeded, during which, Betts, I
toiled for bread like an Eastern slave, the trodden-on and abused
hireling of a selfish milliner. Accident at length placed me in a
family as a governess. This family happened to be acquainted with
Madame Monson, and an offer that was brilliant to me, in my
circumstances, brought me to America. You see by all this how unfit I
am to be your wife, monsieur. You would blush to have it