When she awoke next morning, calm and refreshed, it was broad daylight, nearly ten o’clock; and a pale ray of the sun was playing over the polished furniture.  When she opened her eyes, she saw the dealer’s sister standing at the foot of her bed, like a good genius who had been watching over her slumbers.

“Oh, how lazy I am!” she exclaimed with the hearty laugh of a child; for she felt quite at home in this little bedroom, where she had only spent a night; she felt as much at home here as in her father’s palace when her mother was still alive; and it seemed to her as if she had lived here many a year.

“My brother was here about half an hour ago to talk with you,” said the old lady; “but we did not like to wake you.  You needed repose so much!  He will be back in the evening, and dine with us.”

The bright smile which had lighted up Henrietta’s face went out instantly.  Absorbed in the happiness of the moment, she had forgotten every thing; and these few words brought her back to the reality of her position, and recalled to her the sufferings of the past and the uncertainty of the future.

The good widow in the meantime assisted her in getting up; and they spent the day together in the little parlor, busily cutting out and making up a black silk dress for which Papa Ravinet had brought the material in the morning, and which was to take the place of Henrietta’s miserable, worn-out, alpaca dress.  When the young girl had first seen the silk, she had remembered all the kind widow had told her of their excessive economy, and with difficulty only succeeded in checking her tears.

“Why should you go to such an expense?” she had said very sadly.  “Would not a woollen dress have done quite as well?  The hospitality which you offer me must in itself be quite a heavy charge upon you.  I should never forgive myself for becoming a source of still greater privations to such very kind friends.”

But the old lady shook her head, and replied,—­

“Don’t be afraid, child.  We have money enough.”

They had just lighted the lamp, when they heard a key in the outer door; and a moment later Papa Ravinet appeared.  He was very red; and, although it was freezing outdoors, he was streaming with perspiration.

“I am exhausted,” he said, sinking into, an armchair, and wiping his forehead with his broad checkered handkerchief.  “You cannot imagine how I have been running about to-day!  I wanted to take an omnibus to come home, but they were all full.”

Henrietta jumped up, and exclaimed,—­

“You have been to see my father?”

“No, madam.  A week ago already, Count Ville-Handry left his palace.”

A mad thought, the hope that her father might have separated from his wife, crossed Henrietta’s mind.

“And the countess,” she asked,—­“the Countess Sarah?”

“She has gone with her husband.  They live in Peletier Street, in a modest apartment just above the office of the Pennsylvania Petroleum Company.  Sir Thorn and Mrs. Brian are there also.  They have only kept two servants,—­Ernest, the count’s valet, and a certain Clarissa.”