The Frenchwoman's eyes glitter. The golden shower she has longed for, "Auri sacra fames."
"You may trust me perfectly, Madame."
"I wish you to understand me fully. We must act at once. I will see no friends till this girl is out of the way. Then I shall at once arrange my household."
"Does the young lady not go to the convent?" says the astonished servant, a trifle maliciously.
"Certainly not," coldly says Hortense. "My own child shall be the heiress of that fortune. She is already at the Sacred Heart."
Marie Berard's keen eye sees the plot. An exchange of children. The nameless child shall be dowered with millions. Her own future is assured.
"Does any one know of this plan?" the maid eagerly asks.
"Only you and I," is the response.
Ah! Revenge on her stately tyrant lover. The maid dreams of a golden shower. That snug hotel. It is a delicious moment. "What do you wish me to do, Madame?" Marie is now cool.
"Find a place, at once, where the child can be well treated in a 'bourgeois' family. I want you to place her as if she were your own. I wish no one to ever see me or know of me in this matter."