"Has mademoiselle left her card with Jean?" asked Victorine, whose curiosity was thoroughly aroused.
"I have not one with me."
"Then be pleased to give me your name."
"No matter now. I will come again, and then you and Maud shall learn my name."
She hastened out of the room, and when she reached her mother's lodgings, met her uncle pacing the floor of the reception-room.
"Regina, where have you been? You are top total a stranger here to venture out alone, and I beg that you will not repeat the imprudence. I have been really uneasy about your mysterious absence."
"Uncle Orme, I wanted to see my father, and I went to his home."
She threw her hat upon the sofa, and sighed heavily.
"My dear child, Minnie will never forgive your premature disclosure!"
"I made none, because he was not at home. Oh, uncle, I saw something that made my heart turn sick with pity. I saw that poor little deformed girl, Maud Laurance, and it seems to me her haggard face, her utter wretchedness and helplessness would melt a heart of steel! I longed to take the poor forlorn creature in my arms, and cry over her; and I tell you, Uncle Orme, I will not be a party to her ruin and disgrace! I will not, I will not! I am strong and healthy, and God has given me many talents, and raised up dear friends, you uncle, the dearest of all, after mother; but what has that unfortunate cripple? Nothing but her father (for she has been deserted by her mother), and only her father's name. Do you think I could see her beggared, reduced to poverty that really pinched, in order that I might usurp her place as the Laurance heiress? Never."