en you would be able to judge
how much provoking hostility may be compressed into the word "madame,"
under certain circumstances. Amazed at the impudence of Rose-Pompon,
Mdlle. de Cardoville remained mute; whilst Agricola, entirely occupied
with the interest he took in the workgirl, who had never withdrawn her
eyes from him since he entered the room, and with the remembrance of the
painful scene he had just quitted, whispered to Adrienne, without
remarking the grisette's effrontery, "Alas, lady! it is all over. Cephyse
has just breathed her last sigh, without recovering her senses."

"Unfortunate girl!" said Adrienne, with emotion; and for the moment she
forgot Rose-Pompon.

"We must keep this sad news from Mother Bunch, and only let her know it
hereafter, with great caution," resumed Agricola. "Luckily, little Rose
Pompon knows nothing about it."

And he pointed to the grisette, who was now stooping down by the side of
the workgirl. On hearing Agricola speak so familiarly of Rose-Pompon,
Adrienne's amazement increased. It is impossible to describe what she
felt; yet, strangely enough, her sufferings grew less and less, and her
anxiety diminished, as she listened to the chatter of the grisette.

"Oh, my good dear!" said the latter, with as much volubility as emotion,
while her pretty blue eyes were filled with tears; "is it possible that
you did so stupid a thing? Do not poor people help one another? Could you
not apply to me? You knew that others are welcome to whatever is mine,
and I would have made a raffle of Philemon's bazaar," added this singular
girl, with a burst of feeling, at once sincere, touching, and grotesque;
"I would have sold his three boots, pipes, boating-costume, bed, and even
his great drinking-glass, and at all events you should not have been
brought to such an ugly pass. Philemon would not have minded, for he is a
good fellow; and if he had minded, it would have been all the same. Thank
heaven! we are not married. I am only wishing to remind you that you
should have thought of little Rose-Pompon."

"I know you are obliging and kind, miss," said Mother Bunch: for she had
heard from her sister that Rose-Pompon, like so many of her class, had a
warm and generous heart.

"After all," resumed the grisette, wiping with the back of her hand the
tip of her little nose, down which a tear was trickling, "you may tell me
that you did not know where I had taken up my quarters. It's a queer
story, I can