ve (who
had been born within the walls of the prison), furnished the one
bright spot.

"Do not grieve so!" said one of the older inmates who had begged a
little needlework, to a novice who was seated on a bench, weeping
convulsively with her head in her arms.

"Oh, I can never live such a life as this!" replied the poor girl,
giving way to new grief.

"Try to do something or other, 'twill make you forget your troubles."

"I've never done anything in my life--except amuse myself!" replied
the ex-grisette.

"That would be precious hard work in this place," said a third
speaker, who had passed several years of the dreary inactions of
prison life.

"Well, anyhow, I've had my fling!" remarked the newcomer, drying her
eyes. "Scores of admirers crowded around me, willing to ruin
themselves for my amusement--" she said in a vivacious manner, as she
recalled her past triumphs.

"And it all peters down to prison, eating gruel with a wooden spoon,"
said the cynical old-timer; "then, some day, we shall be treated as
those poor creatures were yesterday--hurried off with a guard of
soldiers to see us safe on our weary exile--"

"Does the idea of exile frighten you?"

[Illustration: ONE OF THE BEAUTIES OF THE GARDEN FETE OF BEL-AIR.]

"Who would not be frightened at the idea of being led off amid
insults and jeers--condemned to a two months' voyage in the vilest
company--and at the end of it be landed in a wild country to face
the alternatives of slavery or a runaway into the savage swamps?"

"Plenty of work to relieve monotony--"

"They say women are scarce out there in Louisiana. Perhaps I shall get
a husband, and revenge myself on the male creation that way--"

Their speculations were cut short by the entry of a squad of troopers
literally dragging tiny Henriette Girard within the prison walls. Cold
and unfeeling at best, these men had no sympathy with their young
charge whom they naturally believed to be one of the harpies or
half-wits caught in the police dragnet. They thrust her mid the crowd
in the courtyard and departed. The great iron doors clanged shut. The
gatekeeper turned the massive key. Henriette--without a friend in the
world to appeal to--was an inmate of dread La Salpetriere!

Like a flock of magpies the imprisoned demi-mondaines, petty thieves,
and grosser criminals for love or for hate, crowded around the girl,
inquiring what offence had brought her amongst them.

"I am innocent!"

Her little