Francine took this woman, whom she had volunteered to support, and installed her next her own room. Day and night she watched over her with a solicitude that was absolutely filial.
The elder woman was happy only when Cinette was with her, and when the girl was away, she repeated the name over and over.
Francine worked hard. She now had her regular audiences, and could be heard at certain places at certain hours. Her programmes were regularly made out. The name that had been given her of the Marquise was not given unkindly. She was neither vain nor proud, but she wore her simple woolen gown in such a dainty fashion, and put the little kerchief on her head in such a way, that the people called her the Marquise. But to return to our tale.
"I am going out, mamma," said Francine, "and you will be very good while I am away, will you not?"
"Yes, Cinette—yes."
"You will not try to get up?"
"No, Cinette."
"And to-morrow you shall have a pretty new cap—"
"With ribbons?"
"Yes, with ribbons."