“She is a perfect little savage,” murmured Adeline.

“There are a great many like her in the Faubourg, madame,” said the stove-fitter’s wife.

“But she knows nothing—­not even what is wrong.  Good Heavens!—­Why do you not answer me?” said Madame Hulot, putting out her hand to take Atala’s.

Atala indignantly withdrew a step.

“You are an old fool!” said she.  “Why, my father and mother had had nothing to eat for a week.  My mother wanted me to do much worse than that, I think, for my father thrashed her and called her a thief!  However, Monsieur Vyder paid all their debts, and gave them some money —­oh, a bagful!  And he brought me away, and poor papa was crying.  But we had to part!—­Was it wicked?” she asked.

“And are you very fond of Monsieur Vyder?”

“Fond of him?” said she.  “I should think so!  He tells me beautiful stories, madame, every evening; and he has given me nice gowns, and linen, and a shawl.  Why, I am figged out like a princess, and I never wear sabots now.  And then, I have not known what it is to be hungry these two months past.  And I don’t live on potatoes now.  He brings me bonbons and burnt almonds, and chocolate almonds.—­Aren’t they good?  —­I do anything he pleases for a bag of chocolate.—­Then my old Daddy is very kind; he takes such care of me, and is so nice; I know now what my mother ought to have been.—­He is going to get an old woman to help me, for he doesn’t like me to dirty my hands with cooking.  For the past month, too, he has been making a little money, and he gives me three francs every evening that I put into a money-box.  Only he will never let me out except to come here—­and he calls me his little kitten!  Mamma never called me anything but bad names—­and thief, and vermin!”

“Well, then, my child, why should not Daddy Vyder be your husband?”

“But he is, madame,” said the girl, looking at Adeline with calm pride, without a blush, her brow smooth, her eyes steady.  “He told me that I was his little wife; but it is a horrid bore to be a man’s wife —­if it were not for the burnt almonds!”

“Good Heaven!” said the Baroness to herself, “what monster can have had the heart to betray such perfect, such holy innocence?  To restore this child to the ways of virtue would surely atone for many sins.—­I knew what I was doing.” thought she, remembering the scene with Crevel.  “But she—­she knows nothing.”

“Do you know Monsieur Samanon?” asked Atala, with an insinuating look.

“No, my child; but why do you ask?”

“Really and truly?” said the artless girl.

“You have nothing to fear from this lady,” said the Italian woman.  “She is an angel.”

“It is because my good old boy is afraid of being caught by Samanon.  He is hiding, and I wish he could be free—­”

“Why?”

“On! then he would take me to Bobino, perhaps to the Ambigu.”

“What a delightful creature!” said the Baroness, kissing the girl.