apital and labour; and if there were an honourable,
intelligent, equitable association, which should assure the well-doing
of the artisan, without injuring the fortune of the rich, and which,
establishing between the two classes the bonds of affection and
gratitude, would for ever keep safeguard over the tranquillity of the
state,--how powerful, then, would be the consequences of such a
practical instruction!

Amongst the rich, who then would hesitate as to the dishonourable,
disastrous chances of stock-jobbing, the gross pleasures of avarice, the
foolish vanities of a ruinous dissipation; or, a means at once
remunerative and beneficial, which would shed ease, morality, happiness,
and joy, over scores of families?

CHAPTER XIII.

THE ADIEUX.

The day after that on which the Comte de Saint-Remy had been so
shamefully tricked by his son, a touching scene took place at St. Lazare
at the hour of recreation amongst the prisoners.

On this day, during the walk of the other prisoners, Fleur-de-Marie was
seated on a bench close to the fountain of the courtyard, which was
already named "La Goualeuse's Bench." By a kind of taciturn agreement,
the prisoners had entirely given up this seat to her, as she had evinced
a marked preference for it,--for the young girl's influence had
decidedly increased. La Goualeuse had selected this bench, situated
close to the basin, because the small quantity of moss which velveted
the margin of the reservoir reminded her of the verdure of the fields,
as the clear water with which it was filled reminded her of the small
river of Bouqueval. To the saddened gaze of a prisoner a tuft of grass
is a meadow, a flower is a garden.

Relying on the kind promises of Madame d'Harville, Fleur-de-Marie had
for two days expected her release from St. Lazare. Although she had no
reason for being anxious about the delay in her discharge, the young
girl, from her experience in misfortune, scarcely ventured to hope for a
speedy liberation. Since her return amongst creatures whose appearance
revived at each moment in her mind the incurable memory of her early
disgrace, Fleur-de-Marie's sadness had become more and more
overwhelming. This was not all. A new subject of trouble, distress, and
almost alarm to her, had arisen from the impassioned excitement of her
gratitude towards Rodolph.

It was strange, but she only fathomed the depth of the abyss into which
she had been plunged, in order to measure the