way of
sheer contributions to avarice. It is probable the unfortunate young
lady would have lost her consciousness, under the weight of this blow,
had it not been for the sound of her grandmother's feeble voice calling
her to the bedside. This was a summons that Adrienne never disregarded,
and, for the moment, she forgot her causes of grief.

"My poor Adrienne," whispered Madame de la Rocheaimard in a tone of
tenderness that her granddaughter had not heard for some weeks, "my
poor Adrienne, the hour is near when we must part--"

"Grand-mamma!--dearest grand-mamma!"

"Nay, love, God wills it. I am old, and I feel death upon me. It is
happy that he comes so gently, and when I am so well prepared to meet
him. The grave has views, that no other scene offers, Adrienne! Noble
blood and ancient renown are as nothing compared to God's mercy and
forgiveness. Pardon me if I have ever taught thy simple heart to dwell
on vanities; but it was a fault of the age. This world is all vanity,
and I can now see it when it is too late. Do not let MY fault be THY
fault, child of my love. Kiss me, Adrienne, pray for my soul when all
is over."

"Yes, dearest, dearest grand-mamma, thou know'st I will."

"Thou must part with the rest of the trousseau to make thyself
comfortable when I am gone."

"I will do as thou wishest, dearest grand-mamma."

"Perhaps it will raise enough to purchase thee four or five hundred
francs of rentes, on which thou may'st live with frugality."

{rentes = annuity, yearly income}

"Perhaps it will, grand-mamma."

"Thou wilt not sell the thimble--THAT thou wilt keep to remember me."

Adrienne bowed her head and groaned. Then her grandmother desired her
to send for a priest, and her thoughts took another direction. It was
fortunate they did, for the spirit of the girl could not have endured
more.

That night Madame de la Rocheaimard died, the wife of the porter, the
bon cure, and Adrienne alone being present. Her last words were a
benediction on the fair and gentle being who had so faithfully and
tenderly nursed her in old age. When all was over, and the body was
laid out, Adrienne asked to be left alone with it. Living or dead, her
grandmother could never be an object of dread to her, and there were
few disposed to watch. In the course of the night, Adrienne even caught
a little sleep, a tribute that nature imperiously demanded of her
weakness.

{bon cure = worthy parish priest}

The following day w