“My dear daughter,” said Mother Sainte-Perpetue, in an affectionate voice, “Florine has told me in what a cruel situation you are placed.  Is it true that you are entirely without work?”

“Alas! yes, madame.”

“Call me mother, my dear daughter; that name is dearer to me, and it is the rule of our house.  I need not ask you what are your principles?”

“I have always lived honestly by my labor, mother,” answered the girl, with a simplicity at once dignified and modest.

“I believe you, my dear daughter, and I have good reasons for so doing.  We must thank the Lord, who has delivered you from temptation; but tell me—­are you clever at your trade?”

“I do my best, mother, and have always satisfied my employers.  If you please to try me, you will be able to judge.”

“Your affirmation is sufficient, my dear daughter.  You prefer, I think, to go out by the day?”

“Mdlle.  Florine told me, mother, that I could not have work at home.”

“Why, no—­not for the present, my child.  If hereafter an opportunity should offer, I will think of it.  Just now I have this to propose to you.  A very respectable old lady has asked me to recommend to her a needle-woman by the day; introduced by me, you will certainly suit her.  The institution will undertake to clothe you becomingly, and this advance we shall retain by degrees out of your wages, for you will look to us for payment.  We propose to give you two francs a day; does that appear to you sufficient?”

“Oh, mother! it is much more than I could have expected.”

“You will, moreover, only be occupied from nine o’clock in the morning till six in the evening; you will thus have still some off hours, of which you might make use.  You see, the situation is not a hard one.”

“Oh! quite the contrary, mother.”

“I must tell you, first of all, with whom the institution intends to place you.  It is a widow lady, named Mme. de Bremant, a person of the most steadfast piety.  In her house, I hope, you will meet with none but excellent examples.  If it should be otherwise, you can come and inform me.”

“How so, mother?” said the sewing-girl, with surprise.

“Listen to me, my dear daughter,” said Mother Sainte-Perpetue, in a tone ever more and more affectionate; “the institution of St. Mary has a double end in view.  You will perfectly understand that, if it is our duty to give to masters and mistresses every possible security as to the morality of the persons that we place in their families, we are likewise bound to give to the persons that we so place out every possible security as to the morality of their employers.”

“Nothing can be more just and of a wiser foresight, mother.”

“Naturally, my dear daughter; for even as a servant of bad morals may cause the utmost trouble in a respectable family, so the bad conduct of a master or mistress may have the most baneful influence on the persons who serve them, or who come to work in their houses.  Now, it is to offer a mutual guarantee to good masters and honest servants, that we have founded this institution.”