have had the selfishness
to consent to it? I began to write the first pages of this diary as I
began these last, with my heart steeped in bitterness--and as I went on,
committing to paper what I could have intrusted to no one, my soul grew
calm, till resignation came--Resignation, my chosen saint, who, smiling
through her tears, suffers and loves, but hopes--never!"

These word's were the last in the journal. It was clear, from the blots
of abundant tears, that the unfortunate creature had often paused to
weep.

In truth, worn out by so many emotions, Mother Bunch late in the night,
had replaced the book behind the cardboard box, not that she thought it
safer there than elsewhere (she had no suspicion of the slightest need
for such precaution), but because it was more out of the way there than
in any of the drawers, which she frequently opened in presence of other
people. Determined to perform her courageous promise, and worthily
accomplish her task to the end, she waited the next day for Agricola, and
firm in her heroic resolution, went with the smith to M. Hardy's factory.
Florine, informed of her departure, but detained a portion of the day in
attendance on Mdlle. de Cardoville preferred waiting for night to perform
the new orders she had asked and received, since she had communicated by
letter the contents of Mother Bunch's journal. Certain not to be
surprised, she entered the workgirls' chamber, as soon as the night was
come.

Knowing the place where she should find the manuscript, she went straight
to the desk, took out the box, and then, drawing from her pocket a sealed
letter, prepared to leave it in the place of the manuscript, which she
was to carry away with her. So doing, she trembled so much, that she was
obliged to support herself an instant by the table. Every good sentiment
was not extinct in Florine's heart; she obeyed passively the orders she
received, but she felt painfully how horrible and infamous was her
conduct. If only herself had been concerned, she would no doubt have had
the courage to risk all, rather than submit to this odious despotism; but
unfortunately, it was not so, and her ruin would have caused the mortal
despair of another person whom she loved better than life itself. She
resigned herself, therefore, not without cruel anguish, to abominable
treachery.

Though she hardly ever knew for what end she acted, and this was
particularly the case with regard to the abstraction of the jou