aritable impulse than
by pride which would not allow it to be said that her grandniece ever
lacked, or had to solicit, a home. Be that as it may, the orphan
Madeleine became a permanent inmate of the Chateau de Gramont.

Her gratitude was deep, and found expression in actions more eloquent
than words. She was thankful for the slightest evidence of kindness from
her self-constituted protectors. She even exaggerated the amount of
consideration which she received. She was not free from the hereditary
taint of _pride_; but in her it took a new form and unprecedented
expression. The sense of indebtedness spurred her on to discover ways by
which she could avoid being a burden upon the generosity of her
benefactors,--ways by which her obligations might be lightened, though
she felt they could never be cancelled. She became the active, presiding
spirit over the whole household; her skilful fingers were ever at work
here, there, and everywhere; and her quick-witted brain was always
planning measures to promote the interest, comfort, or pleasure of all
within her sphere. The thought that an employment was menial, and
therefore she must not stoop to perform it, never intruded, for she had
an internal consciousness that she dignified her occupation. What she
accomplished seemed wonderful; but, independent of the rapidity with
which she habitually executed, she comprehended in an eminent degree the
exact value of time,--the worth of every minute; and the use made of her
_spare moments_ was one great secret of the large amount she achieved.

The toilet of the countess for the dinner was completed, but she kept
Madeleine by her side until they descended to the drawing-room.

Madeleine had not yet welcomed Maurice, who had retired to his chamber
to dress before she was aware of his arrival. When she entered the
_salon_ with the countess, he was sitting beside Bertha, but sprang up,
and, advancing joyfully, exclaimed, "Ah! at last! I thought I was never
to be permitted to see the busy fairy of the family, who renders herself
invisible while she is working her wonders!"

He would have approached his lips to Madeleine's cheek, but the countess
interfered.

"And why," asked Maurice, in surprise which was not free from a touch of
vexation,--"why may I not kiss my cousin Madeleine? You found no fault
when I kissed my cousin Bertha just now!"

"That is very different!" replied the countess, hastily.

"Different! What is the difference?