Mariette, thus restored to consciousness, as it were, realised the terrible misfortune that had befallen her all the more keenly, and to this consciousness was now added the fear of being cruelly reproached by her godmother just at a time when she was so sorely in need of consolation, or at least of the quiet and solitude that one craves after such a terrible shock.
Desiring to evade the bitter reproaches this long absence was almost sure to bring down upon her devoted head, and remembering the desire her godmother had expressed that morning, Mariette hoped to gain forgiveness by gratifying the invalid's whim, so, with the forty sous left of the amount she had obtained at the Mont de Piété still in her pocket, she hastened to a rôtisseur's, and purchased a quarter of a chicken there, thence to a bakery, where she bought a couple of crisp white rolls, after which she turned her steps homeward.
A handsome coupé was standing at the door of the house in which Mariette lived, though she did not even notice this fact, but when she stopped at the porter's room as usual, to ask for her key, Madame Justin exclaimed:
"Your key, Mlle. Mariette? Why, that gentleman called for it a moment ago."
"What gentleman?"
"A decorated gentleman. Yes, I should say he was decorated. Why, the ribbon in his buttonhole was at least two inches wide. I never saw a person with such a big decoration."
"But I am not acquainted with any decorated gentleman," replied the young girl, much surprised. "He must have made a mistake."
"Oh, no, child. He asked me if the Widow Lacombe didn't live here with her goddaughter, a seamstress, so you see there could be no mistake."
"But didn't you tell the gentleman that my godmother was an invalid and could not see any one?"
"Yes, child, but he said he must have a talk with her on a very important matter, all the same, so I gave him the key, and let him go up."