tely persisted in preferring this creature to herself. "He does
not love me, he does not love me," she murmured over and over again.

"He wants to marry her now," she said, when Rosalie came in.

The servant started.

"Oh! madame, you surely will not consent to it. M. Paul can't bring that
hussy here."

All the pride in Jeanne's nature rose in revolt at the thought, and
though she was bowed down with grief, she replied decidedly:

"No, Rosalie, never. But since he won't come here I will go to him, and
we will see which of us two will have the greater influence over him."

She wrote to Paul at once, telling him that she was coming to Paris, and
would see him anywhere but at the house where he was living with that
wretch. Then while she awaited his reply, she began to make all her
preparations for the journey, and Rosalie commenced to pack her
mistress's linen and clothes in an old trunk.

"You haven't a single thing to put on," exclaimed the servant, as she
was folding up an old, badly-made dress. "I won't have you go with such
clothes; you'd be a disgrace to everyone, and the Paris ladies would
think you were a servant."

Jeanne let her have her own way, and they both went to Goderville and
chose some green, checked stuff, which they left with the dressmaker to
be made up. Then they went to see Me. Roussel the lawyer, who went to
Paris for a fortnight every year, to obtain a few directions, for it was
twenty-eight years since Jeanne had been to the capital. He gave them a
great deal of advice about crossing the roads and the way to avoid being
robbed, saying that the safest plan was to carry only just as much money
as was necessary in the pockets and to sew the rest in the lining of the
dress; then he talked for a long time about the restaurants where the
charges were moderate, and mentioned two or three to which ladies could
go, and he recommended Jeanne to stay at the Hotel de Normandie, which
was near the railway station. He always stayed there himself, and she
could say he had sent her. There had been a railway between Paris and
Havre for the last six years, but Jeanne had never seen one of these
steam-engines of which everyone was talking, and which were
revolutionizing the whole country.

The day passed on, but still there came no answer from Paul. Every
morning, for a fortnight, Jeanne had gone along the road to meet the
postman, and had asked, in a voice which she could not keep steady:

"You have not