blessed this noble
woman, who, a widow, and ruined in fortune by an unprincipled scoundrel,
had bravely toiled to educate her son, making him the man whom
Marguerite had freely chosen from among all others. She would have knelt
before this grand but simple-hearted mother had she dared; she would
have kissed her hands. And a poignant regret came to her heart when she
remembered her own mother, Baroness Trigault, and compared her with this
matchless woman.

Meanwhile the cab had passed the outer boulevards, and was now whirling
along the Route d'Asnieres, as fast as the horse could drag it. "We are
almost there," remarked Madame Ferailleur, speaking for the first time.

Marguerite's response was inaudible, she was so overcome with emotion.
The driver had just turned the corner of the Route de la Revolte; and it
was not long before he checked his panting horse. "Look, mademoiselle,"
said Madame Ferailleur again, "this is our home."

Upon the threshold, bareheaded, and breathless with impatience and hope,
stood a man who was counting the seconds with the violent throbbings
of his heart. He did not wait for the cab to stop, but springing to
the door, he opened it; and then, catching Marguerite in his arms, he
carried her into the house with a cry of joy. She had not even time to
look around her, ere he had placed her in an arm-chair, and fallen on
his knees before her. "At last I see you again, my beloved Marguerite,"
he exclaimed. "You are mine--nothing shall part us again!"

They sobbed in each other's arms. They could bear adversity unmoved; but
their composure deserted them in this excess of happiness; and standing
in the door-way, Madame Ferailleur felt the tears come to her eyes as
she stood watching them.

"How can I tell you all that I have suffered!" said Pascal, whose voice
was hoarse with feeling. "The papers have told you all the details, I
suppose. How I was accused of cheating at cards; how the vile epithet
'thief' was cast in my face; how they tried to search me; how my most
intimate friends deserted me; how I was virtually expelled from the
Palais de Justice. All this is terrible, is it not? Ah, well! it
is nothing in comparison with the intense, unendurable anguish I
experienced in thinking that you believed the infamous calumny which
disgraced me."

Marguerite rose to her feet. "You thought that!" she exclaimed. "You
believed that I doubted you? I! Like you, I have been accused of robbery
myself. Do