"Poor child, my affection for you brings you but little happiness. Only a few moments ago I made you burst into tears; and to-morrow will be the same as to-day."
To escape from a reply to these bitter words, Mariette brought the steaming milk, which the invalid drank with appetite, and then busied herself in making the bed more comfortable.
"What will you eat, Mariette?" asked the old woman, as she swallowed the last spoonful.
"Oh! I have had my breakfast," said the girl bravely. "I bought a small loaf of rye bread this morning and ate it on my way—there, now," giving a last shake to the pillow, "you must try to sleep, you had such a bad night—are you more comfortable now?"
"Yes, thank you, child."
"I shall take my work near the window; the room is dark and this is very delicate work."
"What is it?"
"A fine cambric chemise, godmother. Madame Jourdan trusted me with it only after many recommendations not to lose this magnificent Valencienne trimming, which alone is worth two hundred francs. This brings the cost to three hundred francs apiece, and there are two dozen to make. It seems they are intended for somebody's mistress," concluded the girl naïvely.
The invalid burst into a sardonic laugh.
"What is it?" asked Mariette in surprise.