on the Rue de Faubourg-Poissonniere, where she had a little apartment of
three rooms. She pretended to be a cleaner and mender of lace, but she
sold a good many other things. Ah! yes! such a mother as that it was
best to know nothing about!

An hour later, Hubert was walking round the house where Madame Sidonie
lived. He saw through the window a woman, thin, pale, coarse-looking,
wearing an old black gown, stained and greased. Never could the heart of
such a person be touched by the recollection of a daughter whom she had
only seen on the day of its birth. He concluded it would be best not to
repeat, even to his wife, many things that he had just learned. Still he
hesitated. Once more he passed by the place, and looked again. Ought
not he to go in, to introduce himself, and to ask the consent of the
unnatural parent? As an honest man, it was for him to judge if he had
the right of cutting the tie there and for ever. Brusquely he turned his
back, hurried away, and returned that evening to Beaumont.

Hubertine had just learned that the _proces-verbal_ at Monsieur
Grandsire's, for the guardianship of the child, had been signed. And
when Angelique threw herself into Hubert's arms, he saw clearly by
the look of supplication in her eyes, that she had understood the true
reason of his journey.

Then he said quietly: "My child, your mother is not living." Angelique
wept, as she kissed him most affectionately. After this the subject was
not referred to. She was their daughter.

At Whitsuntide, this year, the Huberts had taken Angelique with them
to lunch at the ruins of the Chateau d'Hautecoeur, which overlooks the
Ligneul, two leagues below Beaumont; and, after the day spent in running
and laughing in the open air, the young girl still slept when, the next
morning, the old house-clock struck eight.

Hubertine was obliged to go up and rap at her door.

"Ah, well! Little lazy child! We have already had our breakfast, and it
is late."

Angelique dressed herself quickly and went down to the kitchen,
where she took her rolls and coffee alone. Then, when she entered the
workroom, where Hubert and his wife had just seated themselves, after
having arranged their frames for embroidery, she said:

"Oh! how soundly I did sleep! I had quite forgotten that we had promised
to finish this chasuble for next Sunday."

This workroom, the windows of which opened upon the garden, was a large
apartment, preserved almost entirely in its o