g what she wanted, but that she
must wait for his highness's return. Clarice looked in a glass at her
emaciated face, and smiled sadly.

"Wait!" said she; "yes, it would be better, but God knows if I shall
have the time."

The result of this repulse was, that Clarice left her lodging on the
second floor for two little rooms on the third. The poor widow had no
other fortune than her husband's savings. The little dowry which the
duke had given her had disappeared in the purchase of furniture and her
husband's outfit. As the new lodging which she took was much smaller
than the other, no one was astonished that Clarice sold part of her
furniture.

The return of the Duc d'Orleans was expected in the autumn, and Clarice
counted on this to ameliorate her situation; but, contrary to the usual
custom, the army, instead of taking winter quarters, continued the
campaign, and news arrived that, instead of returning, the duke was
about to lay siege to Lerida. Now, in 1647, the great Conde himself had
failed before Lerida, and the new siege, even supposing that it ever
came to a successful issue, threatened to be of a terrible length.

Clarice risked some new advances. This time they had forgotten even her
husband's name. She had again recourse to the prince's letter, which had
its ordinary effect; but they told her that after the siege of Lerida
the duke could not fail to return, and the poor widow was again obliged
to wait.

She left her two rooms for a little attic opposite that of Buvat, and
she sold the rest of her furniture, only keeping a table, some chairs,
Bathilde's little cot, and a bed for herself.

Buvat had seen, without taking much notice, these frequent removals, but
it was not very difficult to understand his neighbor's situation. Buvat,
who was a careful man, had some savings which he had a great wish to put
at his neighbor's service; but Clarice's pride increased with her
poverty, and poor Buvat had never yet dared to make the offer. Twenty
times he had gone to her with a little rouleau, which contained his
whole fortune of fifty or sixty louis, but every time he left without
having dared to take it out of his pocket; but one day it happened that
Buvat, descending to go to business, having met the landlord who was
making his quarterly round, and guessing that his neighbor might be
embarrassed, even for so small a sum, took the proprietor into his own
room, saying that the day before Madame du Rocher had give