She was still listening to that angelic voice that came from the gray, gloomy chapel, the voice of a prisoner, probably, praying for her dead companion.
"What was the crime of the one that is dead?" Germaine asked the gatekeeper.
"She killed her lover in a fit of jealousy. But the saddest thing about it, is that she has a child, a little girl. She wanted to see it before she died."
At this moment the gate was opened, a priest in his white surplice appeared, followed by two choir-boys; then the bier, covered with the black pall. Death had taken the poor Magdalen to his arms, and she was now at rest. Behind the bier walked a little girl about eight years old, pale and thin, her large black eyes full of tears.
Corinne tried to pull Germaine away.
"Excuse me, Corinne, but I can not go with you to your friend. I will meet you at the dépôt in an hour.
"Where are you going?"
"I am going with this mother and child;" and, without waiting for Corinne's reply, Germaine approached the child and embraced her tenderly; then, taking her little clinging hand, she walked with her behind the bier, through the streets to the cemetery. The priest had noticed every thing, and when the ceremony was at an end, he turned to her, saying: "God will reward your kind heart, Madame."
"Dear sir, I would like to adopt this little one."