Mrs. Chevassat.

The honest woman tried to look as grave as an attorney whom a great
client consults, who has unwittingly stirred up a wasps' nest; and, when
her tenant had finished, she said in a voice apparently half drowned in
tears,--

"Poor little kitten, poor little innocent kitten!"

But, if she succeeded in giving to her face an expression of sincere
sympathy, the greedy look in her eyes betrayed but too clearly her
immense satisfaction at seeing Henrietta at last at her feet.

"After all," she said, "you are prodigiously lucky in your misfortunes;
for you are too imprudent in all conscience."

And, as the poor girl was not a little astonished at this, she went
on,--

"Yes, you ran a great risk; and I can easily prove it to you. Who are
you? Well, you need not turn pale that way: I don't ask any questions.
But after all, if you carry your jewels yourself to the 'Uncle,' you go,
so to say, and rush right into the lion's mouth. If they had arrested
you when they saw you had no papers; if they had carried you before a
magistrate--eh? Ah! my beautiful friend, you would have fared pretty
badly, I dare say."

And then, changing her tone, she began scolding her beautiful young lady
for having concealed her troubles from her. That was wrong; that hurt
her feelings. Why had she given her money last night? Did she ask for
money? Did she look like such a terrible creditor? She knew, God be
thanked! what life was here below, and that we are bound to help one
another. To be sure, there was that furniture dealer, who must be paid;
but she would have been quite willing to make him wait; and why should
he not? She had got very different people to wait! Why, only last week,
she had sent one of those men away, and a dressmaker into the bargain,
who came to levy upon one of her tenants in the back building,--the very
nicest, and prettiest, and best of them all.

Thus she discoursed and discoursed with amazing volubility, till at
last, when she thought she had made a sufficiently strong impression on
her "poor little pussy-cat," she said,--

"But one can easily see, my dear young lady, that you are a mere child.
Sell your poor little jewels! Why, that is murder, as long as there is
some one at hand quite ready to do any thing for you."

At this sudden, but not altogether unexpected attack, Henrietta
trembled.

"For I am sure," continued Mrs. Chevassat, "if it were only to be
agreeable to you, he would give one of his