at once to her
own room. When they returned from the tour of the factories she went at
once to her lessons with her governess; in the evening, upon leaving the
table, she went up again to her own room. Madame Bretoneux could not get
the girl alone to talk with her. Finally, on the eve of her departure,
she decided to go to Perrine's own room. Perrine, who thought that she
had got rid of her, was sleeping peacefully.

A few knocks on the door awoke her. She sat up in bed and listened.
Another knock.

She got up and went to the door.

"Who is there?" she asked, without opening it.

"Open the door, it is I ... Madame Bretoneux," said a voice.

Perrine turned the lock. Madame Bretoneux slipped into the room while
Perrine turned on the light.

"Get into bed again," said Madame Bretoneux, "we can talk just as well."

She took a chair and sat at the foot of the bed so that she was full
face with Perrine.

"I want to talk with you about my brother," she began. "You have taken
William's place and I want to tell you a few things that you should do;
for William, in spite of his faults, was very careful of his master's
health. You seem a nice little girl and very willing, and I am sure if
you wish you could do as much as William. I assure you that we shall
appreciate it."

At the first words Perrine was reassured; if it was only of M. Vulfran's
health that she wanted to speak she had nothing to fear.

"I think you are a very intelligent girl," said Mme. Bretoneux with a
flattering, ingratiating smile.

At these words and the look which accompanied them Perrine's suspicions
were aroused at once.

"Thank you," she said, exaggerating her simple child-like smile, "all I
ask is to give as good service as William."

"Ah, I was sure we could count on you," said Mme. Bretoneux.

"You have only to say what you wish, Madame," said little Perrine,
looking up at the intruder with her big innocent eyes.

"First of all you must be very attentive about his health; you must
watch him carefully and see that he does not take cold. A cold might be
fateful; he would have pulmonary congestion and that would aggravate his
bronchitis. Do you know if they could cure him of his bronchial trouble
they could operate upon him and give him back his sight? Think what
happiness that would be for all of us."

"I also would be happy," replied Perrine.

"Those words prove that you are grateful for what he has done for you,
but, then, you are n