tion with which you
will perhaps reproach me. If I told your secret to M. Agricola--"

"Do you know why it was, Magdalen?" cried the smith, interrupting
Adrienne. "It was only another proof of the lady's delicate generosity.
'I long hesitate to confide to you this secret,' said she to me this
morning, 'but I have at length made up my mind to it. We shall probably
find your adopted sister; you have been to her the best of brothers: but
many times, without knowing it, you have wounded her feelings
cruelly--and now that you know her secret, I trust in your kind heart to
keep it faithfully, and so spare the poor child a thousand pangs--pangs
the more bitter, because they come from you, and are suffered in silence.
Hence, when you speak to her of your wife, your domestic happiness, take
care not to gall that noble and tender heart.'--Yes, Magdalen, these were
the reasons that led the lady to commit what she called an indiscretion."

"I want words to thank you now and ever," said Mother Bunch.

"See, my friend," replied Adrienne, "how often the designs of the wicked
turn against themselves. They feared your devotion to me, and therefore
employed that unhappy Florine to steal your journal--"

"So as to drive me from your house with shame, lady, When I supposed my
most secret thoughts an object of ridicule to all. There can be no doubt
such was their plan," said Mother Bunch.

"None, my child. Well! this horrible wickedness, which nearly caused your
death, now turns to the confusion of the criminals. Their plot is
discovered--and, luckily, many other of their designs," said Adrienne, as
she thought of Rose-Pompon.

Then she resumed, with heartfelt joy: "At last, we are again united,
happier than ever, and in our very happiness we shall find new resources
to combat our enemies. I say our enemies--for all that love me are odious
to these wretches. But courage, the hour is come, and the good people
will have their turn."

"Thank heaven, lady," said the smith; "or my part, I shall not be wanting
in zeal. What delight to strip them of their mask!"

"Let me remind you, M. Baudoin, that you have an appointment for to
morrow with M. Hardy."

"I have not forgotten it, lady, any more than the generous offers I am to
convey to him."

"That is nothing. He belongs to my family. Tell him (what indeed I shall
write to him this evening), that the funds necessary to reopen his
factory are at his disposal; I do not say so for his sake