“Well, what is wanted?” was her query. “Begging, I suppose.”
“I wish only for a piece of bread, madame. You will surely not refuse me. I have walked so far and I am faint and tired—oh, so very tired. I pray that you will give me something, even the poorest crust from your table.”
“I understand it all—you have escaped from the asylum. Where are you going?”
“To my home at Ajaccio,” Vivienne answered. “Oh, madame, do not question me, but give me food. I—I feel strangely—I am——”
“She is fainting,” said the man; “I will bring her a glass of water.”
The woman looked at Vivienne closely and said:
“Your pretty face ought to win you bread, if not jewels. You are a fool to go begging, with such beauty as yours. If I had your face and form I would ride in my carriage. There would be no more house drudgery for me.”
Vivienne drank the water, which was cool and refreshing. A little girl, who had been regarding her from the opposite side of the road, came running across and said:
“Come with me, poor woman. My mamma is away, but cook will give you something to eat. She is good to everybody, and so is my mamma. Come!”
“Bless you, sweet child!” said Vivienne, rising.