your table, and to treat as your friend the poor needlewoman, in whose person you sought to honor, resignation and honest industry—­who told you, when I answered with tears of gratitude and regret, that it was not false modesty, but a consciousness of my own ridiculous deformity, that made me refuse your offer?  Who told you that, but for this, I should have accepted it proudly, in the name of all my low-born sisters?  But you replied to me with the touching words:  ’I understand your refusal, my friend; it is not occasioned by false modesty, but by a sentiment of dignity that I love and respect.’  Who told you,” continued the workgirl, with increasing animation, “that I should be so happy to find a little solitary retreat in this magnificent house, which dazzles me with its splendor?  Who guided you in the choice of the apartment (still far too good) that you have provided for me?  Who taught you, that, without envying the beauty of the charming creatures that surround you, and whom I love because they love you, I should always feel, by an involuntary comparison, embarrassed and ashamed before them?  Who told you therefore to send them away, whenever you wished to speak with me?  Yes! who has revealed to you all the painful and secret susceptibilities of a position like mine!  Who has revealed them to you?  God, no doubt! who in His infinite majesty creates worlds, and yet cares for the poor little insect hidden beneath the grass.  And you think, that the gratitude of a heart you have understood so well, cannot rise in its turn to the knowledge of what may be hurtful to you?  No, no, lady; some people have the instinct of self preservation; others have the still more precious instinct that enables them to preserve those they love.  God has given me this instinct.  I tell you that you are betrayed!” And with animated look, and cheeks slightly colored with emotion, the speaker laid such stress upon the last words, and accompanied them with such energetic gesture, that Mdlle. de Cardoville already shaken by the girl’s warmth, began almost to share in her apprehensions.  Then, although she had before learned to appreciate the superior intelligence of this poor child of the people, Mdlle. de Cardoville had never till now heard her friend express herself with so much eloquence—­an eloquence, too, that was inspired by the noblest sentiments.  This circumstance added to the impression made upon Adrienne.  But at the moment she was about to answer, a knock was heard at the door of the room, and Florine entered.

On seeing the alarmed countenance of her waiting-maid, Mdlle. de Cardoville said hastily:  “Well, Florine! what news?  Whence come you, my child?”

“From Saint-Dizier House, madame.”

“And why did you go there?” asked Mdlle. de Cardoville, with surprise.

“This morning,” said Florine, glancing at the workgirl, “madame, there, confided to me her suspicions and uneasiness.  I shared in them.  The visit of the Abbe d’Aigrigny to M. Rodin appeared to me very serious.  I thought, if it should turn out that M. Rodin had been during the last few days to Saint-Dizier House, there would be no longer any doubt of his treachery.”