Madame reached out her hand to Céleste. "Come hither, my child, and let me look at you," said she.
Céleste came timidly forward, and Madame de Pompadour took her by the hand. She drew her down until the girl kneeled upon the floor beside the sofa. The poor sick woman looked long and earnestly into her young face.
"You are beautiful, you are young, you are happy," she murmured. "You are happy, are you not?"
"SHE DREW HER DOWN UNTIL THE GIRL KNEELED UPON THE FLOOR BESIDE HER."
"Yes," answered Céleste, in a whisper.
"And you love Monsieur de Monnière-Croix?"
"Yes," whispered Céleste again, and her voice thrilled.