"My child," said she, "I leave you after supper."
"So soon!" said Helene, to whom Therese was now the only link to her past life.
"Yes, my child. It is at my option to sleep here, but I prefer to return at once; for I wish to be again at home, where the only thing wanting to my happiness will be your presence."
Helene threw herself on Therese's neck, weeping. She recalled her youth, passed so happily among affectionate companions, and she again saw the towers and steeples of her former residence.
They sat down to table, and Sister Therese hastily partook of some refreshment, then embraced Helene, who wished to accompany her to the carriage; but Madame Desroches begged her not to do so, as the hotel was full of strangers.
Helene then asked permission to see the poor gardener, who had been their escort, once more. This man had become a friend to her, and she quitted him and Therese sadly.
Madame Desroches, seeing that Helene felt vainly in her pocket, said, "Does mademoiselle want anything?"
"Yes," said Helene; "I should wish to give a souvenir to this good man."
Madame Desroches gave Helene twenty-five louis, and she, without counting them, slipped them into the gardener's hand, who overwhelmed her with tears and thanks.
At length they were forced to part, and Helene, hearing the sound of their carriage driving away, threw herself on a sofa, weeping.