-what should she
do? She put her hands wearily to her eyes.

"_Mais, la, la_!" soothed Madame Garneau. "You must not be
disappointed. It is only for a few hours. He will come this evening."

Marie-Louise forced a laugh.

"But I am not disappointed," she answered. "I do not mind at all."
She was still staring down into the street. If Madame Garneau would
only go so that she could think what to do, and--no! She knew what she
must do, she had thought it all out before; it was only that the moment
when she must act upon her decision was thrust so suddenly upon her.
"Oh, Madame Garneau, I was almost forgetting!" she cried--and, turning
from the window, ran to the dilapidated and wobbly bureau, pulled open
a drawer, and took out her purse. "It is a week since I have paid for
my room--a week to-day, isn't it?"

Madame Garneau promptly retreated toward the door.

"_Mais, non_! _Mais, non_!" she protested. "When one is sick, one
does not earn the _sous_! Next week, the week after, when you are at
work again, you shall--"

Marie-Louise laughingly caught Madame Garneau's hand, and began to
count the franc pieces into it; while Madame Garneau, still protesting,
kept up her retreat for the door.

"There!"--Marie-Louise triumphantly closed the other's fingers over the
money.

"But, no!" Madame Garneau expostulated vigorously. "But I will not
hear of it! What do you imagine! I--"

And then Marie-Louise pushed the other playfully through the door, and
closed the door, and placed her back against it, and laughed as she
heard Madame Garneau grumbling outside and finally go grumbling
away--but the laugh was all for Madame Garneau. When she could no
longer hear Madame Garneau, she clasped her hands tightly to her bosom,
and caught her breath. That was done! She had both paid and got
Madame Garneau from the room.

She stood still by the door, her shoulders drooped; her hands dropped
to her sides, and her fingers began to pluck nervously at the folds of
her dress, as she stared unseeingly before her. Father Anton had it
all arranged--the words brought so much, meant so much, and seemed to
embody in themselves all that had happened in the week that had passed
since the night when Jean and Monsieur Valmain had fought in the
studio. She had wandered blindly and like one dazed all the rest of
that night through the streets of Paris; and it must only have been the
_bon Dieu_ who had led her at last to where, lying