ld, and she staggered and caught the back of a
chair for support.

The old woman observed this.

"Ma'm'selle is tired," said she. "See; it is past four by the clock, and
you must be much fatigue by the ride and the nervous strain."

"I--I'm completely exhausted," murmured Louise, drooping her head
wearily. The next moment she ran and placed her hands on Madame Cerise's
shoulders, peering into the round, beady eyes with tender pleading as
she continued: "I don't know why I have been stolen away from my home
and friends; I don't know why this dreadful thing has happened to me; I
only know that I am worn out and need rest. Will you take care of me,
Madame Cerise? Will you watch over me while I sleep and guard me from
all harm? I--I haven't any mother to lean on now, you know; I haven't
any friend at all--but _you!_"

The grim features never relaxed a muscle; but a softer look came into
the dark eyes and the woman's voice took on a faint tinge of compassion
as she answered:

"Nothing can harm ma'm'selle. Have no fear, _ma chere_. I will take care
of you; I will watch. _Allons_! it is my duty; it is also my pleasure."

"Are there no--no men in the house--none at all?" enquired the girl,
peering into the surrounding gloom nervously. "There is no person at
all in the house, but you and I."

"And you will admit no one?"

The woman hesitated.

"Not to your apartment," she said firmly. "I promise it."

Louise gave a long, fluttering sigh. Somehow, she felt that she could
rely upon this promise.

"Then, if you please, Madame Cerise, I'd like to go to bed," she said.

The woman took the lamp and led the way upstairs, entering a large, airy
chamber in which a fire burned brightly in the grate. The furniture here
was dainty and feminine. In an alcove stood a snowy bed, the covers
invitingly turned down.

Madame Cerise set the lamp upon a table and without a word turned to
assist Louise. The beautiful Kermess costume, elaborately embroidered
with roses, which the girl still wore, evidently won the Frenchwoman's
approval. She unhooked and removed it carefully and hung it in a closet.
Very dextrous were her motions as she took down the girl's pretty hair
and braided it for the night. A dainty _robe de nuit_ was provided.

"It is my own," she said simply. "Ma'm'selle is not prepared." "But
there must be young ladies in your family," remarked Louise,
thoughtfully, for in spite of the stupor she felt from want of sleep t