king to her, and that side of the
question.--Disengage yourself from her, I advise you, as soon as you
can.--My dear Victoire! believe me, you may spell very well--but you know
nothing of the rights of man, or the rights of woman."

"I do not pretend to know anything of the rights of men, or the rights of
women," cried Victoire; "but this I know: that I never can or will be
ungrateful to Madame de Fleury. Disengage myself from her! I am bound
to her for ever, and I will abide by her till the last hour I breathe."

"Well, well! there is no occasion to be in a passion--I only speak as a
friend, and I have no more time to reason with you; for I must go home,
and get ready my dress for the ball to-night."

"Manon, how can you afford to buy a dress for a ball?"

"As you might, if you had common sense, Victoire--only by being a good
citizen. I and a party of us denounced a milliner and a confectioner in
our neighbourhood, who were horrible aristocrats; and of their goods
forfeited to the nation we had, as was our just share, such delicious
_marangues_ and charming ribands!--Oh, Victoire, believe me, you will
never get such things by going to school, or saying your prayers either.
You may look with as much scorn and indignation as you please, but I
advise you to let it alone, for all that is out of fashion, and may,
moreover, bring you into difficulties. Believe me, my dear Victoire,
your head is not deep enough to understand these things--you know nothing
of politics."

"But I know the difference between right and wrong, Manon: politics can
never alter that, you know."

"Never alter that! there you are quite mistaken," said Manon. "I cannot
stay to convince you now--but this I can tell you: that I know secrets
that you don't suspect."

"I do not wish to know any of your secrets, Manon," said Victoire,
proudly.

"Your pride may be humbled, Citoyenne Victoire, sooner than you expect,"
exclaimed Manon, who was now so provoked by her cousin's contempt that
she could not refrain from boasting of her political knowledge. "I can
tell you that your fine friends will in a few days not be able to protect
you. The Abbe Tracassier is in love with a dear friend of mine, and I
know all the secrets of state from her--and I know what I know. Be as
incredulous as you please, but you will see that, before this week is at
end, Monsieur de Fleury will be guillotined, and then what will become of
you? Good morning, my proud cous