ffair."

"Madame," said Agricola, resolutely, "my name is Baudoin: a blacksmith in
the employment of M. Hardy, at Pressy, near the city. Yesterday you
offered me your purse and I refused it: to-day, I have come to request of
you perhaps ten or twenty times the sum that you had generously proposed.
I have said thus much all at once, madame, because it causes me the
greatest effort. The words blistered my lips, but now I shall be more at
ease."

"I appreciate the delicacy of your scruples, sir," said Adrienne; "but if
you knew me, you would address me without fear. How much do you require?"

"I do not know, madame," answered Agricola.

"I beg your pardon. You don't know what sum?"

"No madame; and I come to you to request, not only the sum necessary to
me, but also information as to what that sum is."

"Let us see, sir," said Adrienne, smiling, "explain this to me. In spite
of my good will, you feel that I cannot divine, all at once, what it is
that is required."

"Madame, in two words, I can state the truth. I have a food old mother,
who in her youth, broke her health by excessive labor, to enable her to
bring me up; and not only me, but a poor abandoned child whom she had
picked up. It is my turn now to maintain her; and that I have the
happiness of doing. But in order to do so, I have only my labor. If I am
dragged from my employment, my mother will be without support."

"Your mother cannot want for anything now, sir, since I interest myself
for her."

"You will interest yourself for her, madame?" said Agricola.

"Certainly," replied Adrienne.

"But you don't know her," exclaimed the blacksmith.

"Now I do; yes."

"Oh, madame!" said Agricola, with emotion, after a moment's silence. "I
understand you. But indeed you have a noble heart. Mother Bunch was
right."

"Mother Bunch?" said Adrienne, looking at Agricola with a very surprised
air; for what he said to her was an enigma.

The blacksmith, who blushed not for his friends, replied frankly.

"Madame, permit me to explain, to you. Mother Bunch is a poor and very
industrious young workwoman, with whom I have been brought up. She is
deformed, which is the reason why she is called Mother Bunch. But though,
on the one hand, she is sunk, as low as you are highly elevated on the
other, yet as regards the heart--as to delicacy--oh, lady, I am certain
that your heart is of equal worth with hers! That was at once her own
thought, after I had related to her in