"My father took it from me," she replied, sobbing. "I begged him to give it back to me, but he has spent it. I brought all this to give you instead, but Babet says it is worth nothing." At these words her sobs were redoubled.
"Babet," continued Madame Pallois, turning towards the poor girl, who, unable to support her joy, was leaning against the wall, breathing with difficulty: "can you forgive me, for accusing you of so disgraceful an act? Will you permit me to kiss you?"
Babet seized the hand of her mistress, then ran to Françou, who had again fallen on the ground, and presented her to Madame Pallois, begging her to forgive her.
"No! no!" exclaimed Françoise; "poor Bernard!"
"Françou," said Madame Pallois, "I am going to Bernard's cottage. You must come with me."
"Oh! no, no," cried Françou, "I would rather die first."
"I insist upon it, Françou; come, dry your eyes, and follow me."
Françou dared not resist. Madame Pallois took her by the hand, and was compelled to support her at every instant. At last they arrived. Bernard came to the door.
"Madame," said he in a tone of the deepest affliction, "you must permit me to fetch the doctor in the course of the morning; my wife is in despair, and thinks that he alone can save her."