t me that I
was but sacrificing you to my pride, and I must hasten to make
atonement. I will endeavour to raise money on this jewel. You know old
M. Simon? Notwithstanding his mean appearance and humble mode of
living, I am persuaded he is a rich man; and though parsimonious in
the extreme, he is good-natured and obliging whenever he can be so
without any risk of loss to himself.'

The next day, in pursuance of her project, the abbess, accompanied by
Margaret, repaired to the house of M. Simon. 'I know, sir,' she said,
'from your kindness to some friends of mine, that you feel an interest
in the class to which I belong, and that you are incapable of
betraying a confidence reposed in you. I am the Abbess of Vatteville.
Driven forth from the plundered and ruined abbey, I am living in the
town under an assumed name. I have been stripped of everything; and
but for the self-sacrificing attachment of a faithful servant, I must
have died of want. However, I have still one resource, and only one. I
know not if I am right in availing myself of it, but at my age the
power to struggle fails. Besides, do not suffer alone; and this
consideration decides me. Will you, then, have the goodness to give me
a loan on this jewel?'

'I believe, madame, you have mistaken me for a pawnbroker. I am not in
the habit of advancing money in this way. I am myself very poor, and
money is now everywhere scarce. I should be very glad to be able to
oblige you, but just at present it is quite out of the question.'

For a moment the poor abbess felt all hope extinct; but with a last
effort to move his compassion, she said: 'Oh, sir, remember that
secrecy is of such importance to me, I dare not apply to any one else.
The privacy, the obscurity in which I live, alone has prevented me
from paying with my blood the penalty attached to a noble name and
lineage.'

'But how am I to ascertain the value of the jewel? I am no jeweller;
and I fear, in my ignorance, to wrong either you or myself.'

'I implore you, sir, not to refuse me. I have no alternative But to
starve; for I am too old to work, and beg I cannot. Keep the jewel as
a pledge, and give me some relief.'

Old Simon, though covetous, was not devoid of feeling. He was touched
by the tears of the venerable lady; and besides, the more he looked at
the jewel, the more persuaded he became of its being really valuable.
After a few moments' consideration, he said: 'All the money I am worth
at this mom