However, she was considered a fascinating little creature, and was much
admired and petted. Claire Fromont, a miniature Cauchoise dressed in
lace, presented her to her cousin Georges, a magnificent hussar who
turned at every step to observe the effect of his sabre.

"You understand, Georges, she is my friend. She is coming to play with
us Sundays. Mamma says she may."

And, with the artless impulsiveness of a happy child, she kissed little
Chebe with all her heart.

But the time came to go. For a long time, in the filthy street where the
snow was melting, in the dark hall, in the silent room where her mother
awaited her, the brilliant light of the salons continued to shine before
her dazzled eyes.

"Was it very fine? Did you have a charming time?" queried Madame Chebe
in a low tone, unfastening the buckles of the gorgeous costume, one by
one.

And Sidonie, overcome with fatigue, made no reply, but fell asleep
standing, beginning a lovely dream which was to last throughout her
youth and cost her many tears.

Claire Fromont kept her word. Sidonie often went to play in the
beautiful gravelled garden, and was able to see at close range the
carved blinds and the dovecot with its threads of gold. She came to know
all the corners and hiding-places in the great factory, and took part in
many glorious games of hide-and-seek behind the printing-tables in the
solitude of Sunday afternoon. On holidays a plate was laid for her at
the children's table.

Everybody loved her, although she never exhibited much affection for any
one. So long as she was in the midst of that luxury, she was conscious
of softer impulses, she was happy and felt that she was embellished by
her surroundings; but when she returned to her parents, when she saw the
factory through the dirty panes of the window on the landing, she had an
inexplicable feeling of regret and anger.

And yet Claire Fromont treated her as a friend.

Sometimes they took her to the Bois, to the Tuileries, in the famous
blue-lined carriage, or into the country, to pass a whole week at
Grandfather Gardinois's chateau, at Savigny-sur-Orge. Thanks to the
munificence of Risler, who was very proud of his little one's success,
she was always presentable and well dressed. Madame Chebe made it a
point of honor, and the pretty, lame girl was always at hand to place
her treasures of unused coquetry at her little friend's service.

But M. Chebe, who was always hostile to the Fromonts, lo