"Now, my good lady," observed Madame Hesslein, airily. "I have conceived something like appreciation of your humdrum goodness, and since I see a good deal of intellect at the back of it, I am disposed to do you a good turn, hoping that, charity-like, it may cover a multitude of my sins."
"What is it that you have to communicate?" asked Margaret, earnestly. "How can it be that you, a stranger have become acquainted with my concerns?"
"Pshaw! English exclusiveness again!" mocked madame. "But I do know somewhat of your affairs, gentle Griselda. For instance, I hear that you are searching for Colonel Brand, that you may make over your fortune to him. Margaret Walsingham, how can you be so foolish?"
"Madame, I only do my duty."
"Ugh! You horrify me with your crucifixion of the flesh, you devotee of Duty."
"Colonel Brand is worth sacrificing life itself for," said Margaret, with glowing eyes.
Madame watched her with sudden interest.
"Ah! I thought so," murmured she, sadly; "You care for this man—you love him."
"Madame!" deprecated timid Margaret, coldly.
"Yes, I see it. Poor creature, you should not love anything, do you know that, said madame, pityingly.