Mrs. Hilaire's, done entirely
without the expensive board of Mrs. Chevassat. Even this rupture, at
which Henrietta had at first rejoiced, became now to her a source of
overwhelming trouble. She had still a few things that she might sell,--a
brooch, her cashmere, her watch, and her ear-rings; but she did not know
how and to whom she could sell them.

All the stories by which the wicked woman down stairs had tried to
frighten her from going herself to the pawnbroker came back to her
mind; and she saw herself, at the first attempt, arrested by the police,
examined, and carried back to her father, handed over to Sarah and Sir
Thorn, and--

Still want pressed her hard; and at last, after long hesitation, one
evening, at dark, she slipped out to find a purchaser. What she was
looking for was one of those dark little shops in which men lie in wait
for their prey, whom the police always suspects, and carefully watches.
She found one such as she desired. An old woman with spectacles on her
nose, without even asking her name, and evidently taking her to be a
thief, gave her, for her brooch and her ear-rings, a hundred and forty
francs.

What was this sum of money? A nothing; Henrietta understood that
perfectly. And hence, overcoming all her reserve and her reluctance, she
vowed she would try every thing in her power to obtain work.

She kept her word, sustained by a secret hope of triumphing, by dint of
energy and perseverance, over fate itself. She went from store to store,
from door to door, so to say, soliciting employment, as she would have
asked for alms, promising to do any thing that might be wanted, in
return merely for her board and lodging. But it was written that every
thing should turn against her. Her beauty, her charms, her distinguished
appearance, her very manner of speaking, were so many obstacles in her
way. Who could think of engaging a girl as a servant, who looked like a
duchess? So that all her prayers only met with cold faces, shrugging of
shoulders, and ironical smiles. She was refused everywhere. It is true
that now and then some gallant clerk replied to her application by a
declaration of love.

Chance had thrown into her hands one of those small handbills which
bill-stickers paste upon the gutters, and in which workwomen are
"wanted." Henceforth she spent her days in looking up these handbills,
and in going to places from which they were issued. But here she met
with the same difficulties. There