“No, Madame,” returned the girl, smiling slightly, “Mrs. Sharp’s apprentices have little time or opportunity to observe the beauties of nature.”
“But Sundays—you do not work then?”
“No, Madame, but they find me weary enough to go very early to bed.”
“Ah, too bad, too bad! But look, look! what a shame to be deprived of so lovely a sight as that!” cried the Madame as the queen of night suddenly emerged from her watery bed, flooding the whole scene with mellow radiance.
“It is very beautiful,” murmured Floy, sighing softly to herself.
How often in the happy days gone by she and Espy had enjoyed the moonlight together!
“I would not stay there if I were you,” pursued the Madame. “Why should you stay where you are so badly treated? Why should any one?”
“Because, Madame, it is there I must gain the knowledge that is to enable me to earn my bread.”
“A hard thing for a lady to do. Any one can see you are a lady—your speech, your manners, your appearance, all tell it. But, ah well, you have youth, good looks, health! and though I’m rich, I’d be only too glad to exchange with you,” and in her wheezing tones, and with many a pause for breath, the Madame went on to give a long account of her sufferings by day and by night.