ion of your time."

"I thank you, madame," replied Fleur-de-Marie, timidly, to Madame
Armand, who left her alone with the marchioness.

The latter, struck by the candid expression of her protegee's features,
and by her carriage, so full of grace and modesty, could not help
remembering that La Goualeuse had pronounced the name of Rodolph in her
sleep, and that the inspectress believed the youthful prisoner to be a
prey to deep and hidden love. Although perfectly convinced that it could
not be a question as to the Grand Duke Rodolph, Clemence acknowledged to
herself that, with regard to beauty, La Goualeuse was worthy of a
prince's love.

At the sight of her protectress, whose physiognomy, as we have said,
displayed excessive goodness, Fleur-de-Marie felt herself
sympathetically attracted towards her.

"My girl," said Clemence to her, "whilst commending the gentleness of
your disposition and the discreetness of your behaviour, Madame Armand
complains of your want of confidence in her."

Fleur-de-Marie bowed her look, but did not reply.

"The peasant's dress in which you were clad when you were apprehended,
your silence on the subject of the place where you resided before you
were brought here, prove that you conceal certain particulars from us."

"Madame--"

"I have no right to your confidence, my poor child, nor would I ask you
any question that would distress you; but, as I am assured that if I
request your discharge from prison it will be accorded to me, before I
do so I should wish to talk to you of your own plans, your resources for
the future. Once free, what do you propose to do? If, as I doubt not,
you decide on following the good path you have already entered upon,
have confidence in me, and I will put you in the way of gaining an
honest subsistence."

La Goualeuse was moved to tears at the interest which Madame d'Harville
evinced for her. After a moment's hesitation, she replied:

"You are very good, madame, to show so much benevolence towards me,--so
generous, that I ought, perhaps, to break the silence which I have
hitherto kept on the past, to which I was forced by an oath--"

"An oath?"

"Yes, madame, I have sworn to be secret to justice, and the persons
employed in this prison, as to the series of events by which I was
brought hither. Yet, madame, if you will make me a promise--"

"Of what nature?"

"To keep my secret. I may, thanks to you, madame, without breaking my
oath, comfort most wo