iments were justified. You are betrayed."

"Of what presentiments do you speak, my dear child!" said Adrienne, with
surprise. "Who betrays me?"

"M. Rodin!" answered the workgirl.

CHAPTER XLII. DOUBTS.

On hearing the accusation brought against Rodin, Mdlle. de Cardoville
looked at the denunciator with new astonishment. Before continuing this
scene, we may say that Mother Bunch was no longer clad in her poor, old
clothes, but was dressed in black, with as much simplicity as taste. The
sad color seemed to indicate her renunciation of all human vanity, the
eternal mourning of her heart, and the austere duties imposed upon her
by her devotion to misfortune. With her black gown, she wore a large
falling collar, white and neat as her little gauze cap, with its gray
ribbons, which, revealing her bands of fine brown hair, set off to
advantage her pale and melancholy countenance, with its soft blue eyes.
Her long, delicate hands, preserved from the cold by gloves, were no
longer, as formerly, of a violet hue, but of an almost transparent
whiteness.

Her agitated features expressed a lively uneasiness. Extremely
surprised, Mdlle. de Cardoville exclaimed: "What do you say?"

"M. Rodin betrays you, madame."

"M. Rodin? Impossible!"

"Oh, madame! my presentiments did not deceive me."

"Your presentiments?"

"The first time I saw M. Rodin, I was frightened in spite of myself. My
heart sank within me, and I trembled--for you, madame."

"For me?" said Adrienne. "Why did you not tremble for yourself, my poor
friend?"

"I do not know, madame; but such was my first impression. And this fear
was so invincible, that, notwithstanding the kindness that M. Rodin
showed my sister, he frightened me, none the less."

"That is strange. I can understand as well as any one the almost
irresistible influence of sympathies or aversions; but, in this
instance--However," resumed Adrienne, after a moment's reflection, "no
matter for that; how have these suspicions been changed to certainty?"

"Yesterday, I went to take to my sister Cephyse, the assistance that M.
Rodin had given me, in the name of a charitable person. I did not find
Cephyse at the friend's who had taken care of her; I therefore begged
the portress, to inform my sister that I would call again this morning.
That is what I did; but you must excuse me, madame, some necessary
details."

"Speak, speak, my dear."

"The young girl who had received my sister," said Mot