u may be sure that Maman Nini would have beaten you. She always
took my part against others, she did, although sometimes she struck me
herself. Ah! it is true I was not so unhappy over there, with the cattle
and all!"

Her voice choked her and she continued, in broken, incoherent sentences,
to speak of the meadow where she drove the great red cow, of the broad
road where she played, of the cakes they cooked, and of a pet house-dog
that had once bitten her.

Hubert interrupted her as he read aloud: "In case of illness, or of bad
treatment, the superintendent is authorised to change the nurses of the
children." Below it was written that the child Angelique Marie had been
given on June 20 to the care of Theresa, wife of Louis Franchomme, both
of them makers of artificial flowers in Paris.

"Ah! I understand," said Hubertine. "You were ill, and so they took you
back to Paris."

But no, that was not the case, and the Huberts did not know the whole
history until they had drawn it, little by little from Angelique. Louis
Franchomme, who was a cousin of Maman Nini, went to pass a month in his
native village when recovering from a fever. It was then that his wife,
Theresa, became very fond of the child, and obtained permission to take
her to Paris, where she could be taught the trade of making flowers.
Three months later her husband died, and she herself, being delicate in
health, was obliged to leave the city and to go to her brother's, the
tanner Rabier, who was settled at Beaumont. She, alas! died in the early
days of December, and confided to her sister-in-law the little girl,
who since that time had been injured, beaten, and, in short, suffered
martyrdom.

"The Rabiers?" said Hubert. "The Rabiers? Yes, yes! They are tanners on
the banks of the Ligneul, in the lower town. The husband is lame, and
the wife is a noted scold."

"They treated me as if I came from the gutter," continued Angelique,
revolted and enraged in her mortified pride. "They said the river was
the best place for me. After she had beaten me nearly to death, the
woman would put something on the floor for me to eat, as if I were a
cat, and many a time I went to bed suffering from hunger. Oh! I could
have killed myself, at last!" She made a gesture of furious despair.

"Yesterday, Christmas morning, they had been drinking, and, to amuse
themselves, they threatened to put out my eyes. Then, after a while,
they began to fight with each other, and dealt suc