“Offended!—Alas! I never received your letter.”
“And yet you know that I wrote to you, lady.”
“Yes, my poor girl; I know, also, that you wrote to me at my porter’s lodge. Unfortunately, he delivered your letter to one of my women, named Florine, telling her it came from you.”
“Florine! the young woman that was so kind to me!”
“Florine deceived me shamefully; she was sold to my enemies, and acted as a spy on my actions.”
“She!—Good Heavens!” cried Mother Bunch. “Is it possible?”
“She herself,” answered Adrienne, bitterly; “but, after all, we must pity as well as blame her. She was forced to obey by a terrible necessity, and her confession and repentance secured my pardon before her death.”
“Then she is dead—so young! so fair!”
“In spite of her faults, I was greatly moved by her end. She confessed what she had done, with such heart-rending regrets. Amongst her avowals, she told me she had intercepted a letter, in which you asked for an interview that might save your sister’s life.”
“It is true, lady; such were the terms of my letter. What interest had they to keep it from you?”