the servants. And there
was no one to encourage or sustain her. Ah, yes! standing at a window
on the second floor, with his forehead pressed close against the pane of
glass, she saw the only friend she had in the world--the old magistrate
who had defended, encouraged, and sustained her--the man who had
promised her his assistance and advice, and prophesied ultimate success.

"Shall I be a coward?" she thought; "shall I be unworthy of Pascal?" And
she resolutely entered the carriage, mentally exclaiming: "The die is
cast!"

The General insisted that she should take a place beside Madame de
Fondege on the back seat; while he found a place next to Madame Leon on
the seat facing them. The drive was a silent and tedious one. The night
was coming on; it was a time when all Paris was on the move, and
the carriage was delayed at each street corner by a crowd of passing
vehicles. The conversation was solely kept alive by the exertions of
Madame de Fondege, whose shrill voice rose above the rumble of the
wheels, as she chronicled the virtues of the late Count de Chalusse, and
congratulated Mademoiselle Marguerite on the wisdom of her decision. Her
remarks were of a commonplace description, and yet each word she uttered
evinced intense satisfaction, almost delight, as if she had won some
unexpected victory. Occasionally, the General leaned from the carriage
window to see if the vehicle laden with Mademoiselle Marguerite's trunks
was following them, but he said nothing.

At last they reached his residence in the Rue Pigalle. He alighted
first, offered his hand successively to his wife, Mademoiselle
Marguerite, and Madame Leon, and motioned the coachman to drive away.

But the man did not stir. "Pardon--excuse me, monsieur," he said, "but
my employers bade--requested me----"

"What?"

"To ask you--you know, for the fare--thirty-five francs--not counting
the little gratuity."

"Very well!--I will pay you to-morrow."

"Excuse me, monsieur; but if it is all the same to you, would you do so
this evening? My employer said that the bill had been standing a long
time already."

"What, scoundrel!"

But Madame de Fondege, who was on the point of entering the house,
suddenly stepped back, and drawing out her pocketbook, exclaimed:
"That's enough! Here are thirty-five francs."

The man went to his carriage lamp to count the money, and seeing that he
had the exact amount--"And my gratuity?" he asked.

"I give none to insolent p