to die as she had lived, neglected and poor; and this
future life of deprivation would be harder to bear than the past,
because she no longer had bright prospects to look forward to. It was a
cruel awakening from her golden dreams.

And it was Valentine who brought this misery upon her.

This reflection aroused all her inherent bitterness, and she felt toward
her daughter one of those implacable hatreds which, instead of being
quenched, are strengthened by time.

She wished she could see Valentine lying dead before her; above all
would she like the accursed infant to come to grief.

But the doctor's threatening look was still before her, and she dared
not attempt her wicked plans. She even forced herself to go and say a
few forgiving words to Valentine, and then left her to the care of the
faithful Mihonne.

Poor Valentine! she prayed that death might kindly end her sufferings.
She had neither the moral nor physical courage to fight against her
fate, but hopelessly sank beneath the first blow, and made no attempt to
rally herself.

She was, however, getting better. She felt that dull, heavy sensation
which always follows violent mental or physical suffering; she was still
able to reflect, and thought:

"Well, it is over; my mother knows everything. I no longer have her
anger to fear, and must trust to time for her forgiveness."

This was the secret which Valentine had refused to reveal to Gaston,
because she feared that he would refuse to leave her if he knew it; and
she wished him to escape at any price of suffering to herself. Even now
she did not regret having followed the dictates of duty, and remained at
home.

The only thought which distressed her was Gaston's danger. Had he
succeeded in embarking? How would she find out? The doctor had allowed
her to get up; but she was not well enough to go out, and she did not
know when she should be able to walk as far as Pere Menoul's cabin.

Happily the devoted old boatman was intelligent enough to anticipate her
wishes.

Hearing that the young lady at the chateau was very ill, he set about
devising some means of informing her of her friend's safety. He went to
La Verberie several times on pretended errands, and finally succeeded in
seeing Valentine. One of the servants was present, so he could not speak
to her; but he made her understand by a significant look that Gaston was
out of danger.

This knowledge contributed more toward Valentine's recovery than all