red-silk couch, taking
from the plate presented to her the first sherbet of her life, she
suddenly thought of the dark stairway, of her parents' stuffy little
rooms, and it produced upon her mind the effect of a distant country
which she had left forever.

However, she was considered a fascinating little creature, and was much
admired and petted. Claire Fromont, a miniature Cauchoise dressed in
lace, presented her to her cousin Georges, a magnificent hussar who
turned at every step to observe the effect of his sabre.

"You understand, Georges, she is my friend. She is coming to play with us
Sundays. Mamma says she may."

And, with the artless impulsiveness of a happy child, she kissed little
Chebe with all her heart.

But the time came to go. For a long time, in the filthy street where the
snow was melting, in the dark hall, in the silent room where her mother
awaited her, the brilliant light of the salons continued to shine before
her dazzled eyes.

"Was it very fine? Did you have a charming time?" queried Madame Chebe in
a low tone, unfastening the buckles of the gorgeous costume, one by one.

And Sidonie, overcome with fatigue, made no reply, but fell asleep
standing, beginning a lovely dream which was to last throughout her youth
and cost her many tears.

Claire Fromont kept her word. Sidonie often went to play in the beautiful
gravelled garden, and was able to see at close range the carved blinds
and the dovecot with its threads of gold. She came to know all the
corners and hiding-places in the great factory, and took part in many
glorious games of hide-and-seek behind the printing-tables in the
solitude of Sunday afternoon. On holidays a plate was laid for her at the
children's table.

Everybody loved her, although she never exhibited much affection for any
one. So long as she was in the midst of that luxury, she was conscious of
softer impulses, she was happy and felt that she was embellished by her
surroundings; but when she returned to her parents, when she saw the
factory through the dirty panes of the window on the landing, she had an
inexplicable feeling of regret and anger.

And yet Claire Fromont treated her as a friend.

Sometimes they took her to the Bois, to the Tuileries, in the famous
blue-lined carriage, or into the country, to pass a whole week at
Grandfather Gardinois's chateau, at Savigny-sur-Orge. Thanks to the
munificence of Risler, who was very proud of his little one's success,
sh