uld not have satisfactorily explained
to Henrietta the eagerness of Papa Ravinet to serve her, nor his
perseverance in offering her his advice. Was it merely from charity that
he did all this? Alas! Christian charity is not often so pressing.

Did he know who Henrietta was? Had he at any period of her life come in
contact with her? or had his interests ever been mixed up with hers? Was
he anxious to make a return for some kindness shown to him? or did he
count upon some reward in the future? Who could tell?

"Would it not be the height of imprudence to put myself in the power of
this man?" thought the poor girl.

If, on the other hand, she rejected his offers, she fell back into that
state of forlorn wretchedness, from which she had only been able to save
herself by suicide.

This view was all the more urgent, as the poor child, like all persons
who have been rescued from death only after having exhausted their
sufferings, now began to cling to life with an almost desperate
affection. It seemed as if the contact with death had wiped out at once
all the memory of the past, and all the threats of the future.

"O Daniel!" she said to herself, trembling all over,--"O Daniel! my only
friend upon earth, what would you suffer if you knew that you lost me
forever by the very means you chose to secure my safety!"

To refuse the assistance offered her by Papa Ravinet would have required
an amount of energy which she did not possess. The voice of reflection
continually said to her,--

"The old man is your only hope."

It never occurred to her to conceal the truth from Papa Ravinet, or to
deceive him by a fictitious story. She only thought how she could tell
him the truth without telling him all; how she could confess enough to
enable him to serve her, and yet not to betray a secret which she held
more dear than her happiness, her reputation, and life itself.

Unfortunately, she was the victim of one of those intrigues which are
formed and carried out within the narrow circle of a family,--intrigues
of the most abominable character, which people suspect, and often even
know perfectly well, and which yet remain unpunished, because they
cannot be reached by the law.

Henrietta's father, Count Ville-Handry, was in 1845 one of the
wealthiest land-owners of the province of Anjou. The good people near
Rosiers and Saint Mathurin were fond of pointing out to strangers the
massive towers of Ville-Handry, a magnificent castle half