d maid opened the door and peered into the room. The table,
she saw, was covered with pastry and cakes. Meantime, in an instant
Helene sped through the garden; the gate was still open, the workmen
were just carrying away their ladder.

On the left the Rue Vineuse turns into the Rue des Reservoirs, from
which the cemetery of Passy can be entered. On the Boulevard de la
Muette a huge retaining wall has been reared, and the cemetery
stretches like an immense terrace commanding the heights, the
Trocadero, the avenues, and the whole expanse of Paris. In twenty
steps Helene had reached the yawning gateway, and saw before her the
lonely expanse of white gravestones and black crosses. She entered. At
the corners of the first walk two large lilac trees were budding.
There were but few burials here; weeds grew thickly, and a few cypress
trees threw solemn shadows across the green. Helene hurried straight
on; a troop of frightened sparrows flew off, and a grave-digger raised
his head towards her after flinging aside a shovelful of earth. The
procession had probably not yet arrived from the church; the cemetery
seemed empty to her. She turned to the right, and advanced almost to
the edge of the terrace parapet; but, on looking round, she saw behind
a cluster of acacias the little girls in white upon their knees before
the temporary vault into which Jeanne's remains had a moment before
been lowered. Abbe Jouve, with outstretched hand, was giving the
farewell benediction. She heard nothing but the dull thud with which
the stone slab of the vault fell back into its place. All was over.

Meanwhile, however, Pauline had observed her and pointed her out to
Madame Deberle, who almost gave way to anger. "What!" she exclaimed;
"she has come. But it isn't at all proper; it's very bad taste!"[*]

[*] In France, among the aristocracy and the upper _bourgeoisie_--to
which Madame Deberle belonged--mothers seldom, if ever, attend the
funerals of their children, or widows those of the husbands they
have lost. They are supposed to be so prostrated by grief as to be
unable to appear in public. This explanation was necessary, as
otherwise the reader might not understand the force of Madame
Deberle's remarks.

So saying she stepped forward, showing Helene by the expression of her
face that she disapproved of her presence. Some other ladies also
followed with inquisitive looks. Monsieur Rambaud, however, had
already rejoined