ed it, you must get
another copy. You understand? Remember all that I tell you."

"Yes, mama; yes."

"You will be very unhappy, but you must not give way to despair. When
you have nothing more to do in Paris ... when you are left alone ...
then you must go off at once to Maraucourt ... by train if you have
enough money ... on foot, if you have not. Better to sleep by the
roadside and have nothing to eat than to stay in Paris. You promise to
leave Paris at once, Perrine?"

"I promise, mama," sobbed the little girl.

The sick woman made a sign that she wanted to say more, but that she
must rest for a moment. Little Perrine waited, her eyes fixed on her
mother's face.

"You will go to Maraucourt?" said the dying woman after a few moments
had passed. "You have no right to claim anything ... what you get must
be for yourself alone ... be good, and make yourself loved. All is there
... for you. I have hope ... you will be loved for yourself ... they
cannot help loving you ... and then your troubles will be over, my
darling."

She clasped her hands in prayer. Then a look of heavenly rapture came
over her face.

"I see," she cried; "I see ... my darling will be loved! She will be
happy ... she will be cared for. I can die in peace now with this
thought ... Perrine, my Perrine, keep a place in your heart for me
always, child...."

These words, which seemed like an exaltation to Heaven, had exhausted
her; she sank back on the mattress and sighed. Perrine waited ...
waited. Her mother did not speak. She was dead. Then the child left the
bedside and went out of the house. In the field she threw herself down
on the grass and broke into sobs. It seemed as though her little heart
would break.

It was a long time before she could calm herself. Then her breath came
in hiccoughs. Vaguely she thought that she ought not to leave her mother
alone. Someone should watch over her.

The field was now filled with shadows; the night was falling. She
wandered about, not knowing where she went, still sobbing.

She passed the wagon for the tenth time. The candy man, who had watched
her come out of the house, went towards her with two sugar sticks in his
hand.

"Poor little girl," he said, pityingly.

"Oh!..." she sobbed.

"There, there! Take these," he said, offering her the candy. "Sweetness
is good for sorrow."

CHAPTER IV

A HARD ROAD TO TRAVEL

The last prayers had been uttered. Perrine still stood before the gra