And, when Henrietta was at the door, she said,—­

“Oh, wait!  I do not trouble people for nothing.  Come, Julius, turn your pockets inside out, and give the little one a twenty-franc-piece.”

The poor girl was almost outside, when she turned, and said,—­

“Thank you, madam; but you owe me nothing.”

It was high time for Henrietta to leave.  Her first surprise had been followed by mad anger, which drove the blood to her head, and made her weep bitter tears.  She knew now that Mrs. Chevassat had caught her in this trap.  What could the wretched woman have meant?

Carried away by an irresistible impulse, and no longer mistress of herself, Henrietta rushed down stairs, and broke like a whirlwind into the little box of the concierge, crying out,—­

“How could you dare to send me to such people?  You knew all about it.  You are a wretch!”

Master Chevassat was the first to rise, and said,—­

“What is the matter?  Do you know to whom you are talking?”

But his wife interrupted him with a gesture, and, turning to Henrietta, said with cynic laughter,—­

“Well, what next?  Are these people not good enough for you; eh?  In the first place, I am tired of your ways, my ‘pussy-cat.’  When one is a beggar, as you are, one stays at home like a good girl; and one does not run away with a young man, and gad about the world with lovers.”

Thereupon she took advantage of the fact that Henrietta had paused upon the threshold, to push her brutally out of the room at the risk of throwing her down, and fiercely banged the door.  An hour afterwards the poor girl vehemently reproached herself for her passion.

“Alas!” she said to herself, weeping, “the weak, the unhappy, have no right to complain.  Who knows what this wicked woman will now do to avenge herself?”

She found it out the second day afterwards.

Coming down a little before seven o’clock, in order to buy her roll and her milk for breakfast, she met at the entrance-door Mrs. Hilaire, face to face.  At the sight of the poor girl, that irascible woman turned as red as a poppy, and, rushing up to her, seized her by the arm, and shook it furiously, crying out at the same time with the full force of her lungs,—­

“Ah, it is you, miserable beggar, who go and tell stories on me!  Oh, what wickedness!  A beggar whom I had sent for to allow her to earn thirty francs!  And I must needs think she is sick, and pity her, and ask Julius to give her a twenty-franc-piece.”

Henrietta felt that she ought not to blame this woman, who, after all, had shown her nothing but kindness.  But she was thoroughly frightened, and tried to get away.  The woman, however, held her fast, and cried still louder, till several tenants came to the open windows.

“They’ll make you pay for that, my darling,” she yelled, amid foul oaths, which her wrath carried along with it, as a torrent floats down stones and debris.  “They’ll make you pay for it!  You’ll have to clear out of here, I tell you!”