gage her as bonne or gouvernante; tells a tale full
of integrity, but gives no reference."

"She is a stranger?"

"An Englishwoman, as one may see."

"She speaks French?"

"Not a word."

"She understands it?"

"No."

"One may then speak plainly in her presence?"

"Doubtless."

He gazed steadily. "Do you need her services?"

"I could do with them. You know I am disgusted with Madame Svini."

Still he scrutinized. The judgment, when it at last came, was as
indefinite as what had gone before it.

"Engage her. If good predominates in that nature, the action will bring
its own reward; if evil--eh bien! ma cousine, ce sera toujours une
bonne oeuvre." And with a bow and a "bon soir," this vague arbiter of
my destiny vanished.

And Madame did engage me that very night--by God's blessing I was
spared the necessity of passing forth again into the lonesome, dreary,
hostile street.

CHAPTER VIII.

MADAME BECK.

Being delivered into the charge of the maitresse, I was led through a
long narrow passage into a foreign kitchen, very clean but very
strange. It seemed to contain no means of cooking--neither fireplace
nor oven; I did not understand that the great black furnace which
filled one corner, was an efficient substitute for these. Surely pride
was not already beginning its whispers in my heart; yet I felt a sense
of relief when, instead of being left in the kitchen, as I half
anticipated, I was led forward to a small inner room termed a
"cabinet." A cook in a jacket, a short petticoat and sabots, brought my
supper: to wit--some meat, nature unknown, served in an odd and acid,
but pleasant sauce; some chopped potatoes, made savoury with, I know
not what: vinegar and sugar, I think: a tartine, or slice of bread and
butter, and a baked pear. Being hungry, I ate and was grateful.

After the "priere du soir," Madame herself came to have another look at
me. She desired me to follow her up-stairs. Through a series of the
queerest little dormitories--which, I heard afterwards, had once been
nuns' cells: for the premises were in part of ancient date--and through
the oratory--a long, low, gloomy room, where a crucifix hung, pale,
against the wall, and two tapers kept dim vigils--she conducted me to
an apartment where three children were asleep in three tiny beds. A
heated stove made the air of this room oppressive; and, to mend
matters, it was scented with an odour rather strong than delicate: a
perfume, ind