"God has sent you, Marthe. Look, read."
She gave her Mme. Podoi's letter and Vera's telegram.
"My poor friend," said Mme. Daubrel. "What will you do?"
"I shall go to Pampeln."
"To Pampeln—you?"
"Yes, I. The prince is away, and I wish to save my son. I feel that I shall save him."
"But your husband?"
"I have no husband; I have only my children. While I am away you will watch over my daughter, will you not? I beg it of you."
"I promise—I swear it. She shall be my daughter."
Marthe had not the courage to combat her friend's resolution. In her motherly love, so much tried, she understood her too well.