a remembered us, and advised her gentleman to settle near us; and
as the good man sees how decent we are, he allows her to come here. But
get them married, madame, and you will do an action worthy of you. Once
married, the child will be independent and free from her mother, who
keeps an eye on her, and who, if she could make money by her, would like
to see her on the stage, or successful in the wicked life she meant her
to lead."

"Why doesn't the old man marry her?"

"There was no necessity for it, you see," said the Italian. "And though
old Vyder is not a bad old fellow, I fancy he is sharp enough to wish
to remain the master, while if he once got married--why, the poor man is
afraid of the stone that hangs round every old man's neck."

"Could you send for the girl to come here?" said Madame Hulot. "I should
see her quietly, and find out what could be done--"

The stove-fitter's wife signed to her eldest girl, who ran off. Ten
minutes later she returned, leading by the hand a child of fifteen and
a half, a beauty of the Italian type. Mademoiselle Judici inherited from
her father that ivory skin which, rather yellow by day, is by artificial
light of lily-whiteness; eyes of Oriental beauty, form, and brilliancy,
close curling lashes like black feathers, hair of ebony hue, and that
native dignity of the Lombard race which makes the foreigner, as he
walks through Milan on a Sunday, fancy that every porter's daughter is a
princess.

Atala, told by the stove-fitter's daughter that she was to meet the
great lady of whom she had heard so much, had hastily dressed in a
black silk gown, a smart little cape, and neat boots. A cap with a
cherry-colored bow added to the brilliant effect of her coloring. The
child stood in an attitude of artless curiosity, studying the Baroness
out of the corner of her eye, for her palsied trembling puzzled her
greatly.

Adeline sighed deeply as she saw this jewel of womanhood in the mire of
prostitution, and determined to rescue her to virtue.

"What is your name, my dear?"

"Atala, madame."

"And can you read and write?"

"No, madame; but that does not matter, as monsieur can."

"Did your parents ever take you to church? Have you been to your first
Communion? Do you know your Catechism?"

"Madame, papa wanted to make me do something of the kind you speak of,
but mamma would not have it--"

"Your mother?" exclaimed the Baroness. "Is she bad to you, then?"

"She was always beating