“You remember, madame,” she began, “that some time since I presented a young girl for your Institution? Do you also recall what hindered her reception at that time?”
The lady nodded stiffly.
“This hindrance is now certainly removed,”—Miss Falbe’s voice sounded a little sharp as she said it—“The girl has gone astray—to a pitiable degree.”
The police-chief’s wife did not really see what answer she should make. She assumed a business-like mien and sought for excuses; she felt an instinctive longing to oppose Miss Falbe.
But all at once it occurred to her; here was the most excellent opportunity to distinguish herself; she was the Institution’s secretary, and, although the organization was not yet complete, still she had both money and clothing at her disposal. She looked at the register; the women who received support from the Institution were to be recorded in it.
She made a bold decision and solemnly opened the register.
With a rapid and graceful hand she now at last filled the empty spaces in the first line: Name, age, by whom presented, etc.; all with a business expression as if it were the twentieth time she had done it.
When it was all filled out, Miss Falbe asked:
“Well, as to the baby——”
“The baby!” cried the lady; “Is there a baby?”