ed Madeleine as charming
and condescending as ever. The girl had volunteered, good-naturedly,
to make the rounds of the studios with her and get her "on the list."
When Madeleine offered to engineer Fouchette's debut at the Bullier
the latter cheerfully paid for the repast the other had rather
lavishly ordered.

The mere chance rencontre had changed Fouchette's entire plan of life.
She had bravely started for the grand boulevards with the idea of
securing employment among the myriad dressmaking establishments of
that neighborhood, and thus putting to practical use her industrial
knowledge gained at Le Bon Pasteur.

Fortunately for her, Monsieur Marot's generous liberality had placed
her beyond immediate need. A matron had equipped her with a new though
simple costume and had given her a sum of money as she left,--merely
saying that she acted according to instructions; but Fouchette felt
that it was from her prince.

It was on the advice of Madeleine that Fouchette had secured this
place in the Rue St. Jacques.

"It will make you independent and respected," said the practical
grisette. "You've got the money now; you won't have it after a while.
Take my advice,--fix the place up,--gradually, don't you know? You'll
soon make friends who will help you if you're smart; and one must have
a place to receive friends, n'est-ce pas? And the hotels garnis rob
one shamefully!"

And, while Mlle. Fouchette did not dream of the real significance of
this advice, she took it. The details were hers. She knew the value of
a sou about as well as any woman in Paris, and no instructions were
required on the subject of expenditures. She collected, piece by
piece, at bottom prices, those articles which had to be purchased;
made, stitch by stitch, such as required the needle.

To Mlle. Fouchette the simple, cheaply furnished and somewhat tawdry
little room in the Rue St. Jacques was luxury. She was proud of it.
She was perfectly contented with it. It was home.

With the confidence of one who has seen the worst and for whom every
change must be for the better, Fouchette had succeeded where others
would have been discouraged. This confidence to others often seemed
reckless indifference, and consequently carried a certain degree of
conviction.

Among a certain class of wild young men and confirmed Bohemians
Fouchette had quickly achieved a sort of vogue which attaches to an
eccentric woman in Paris. She was eccentric in that she danced