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"Like myself, she had no parents. But she was rich, very rich. Sheowned the furniture of the room, a sewing-machine, which had costher three hundred francs, and, like a true child of Paris, sheunderstood five or six trades, the least lucrative of which yieldedher twenty-five or thirty cents a day. In less than a week, we hadbecome good friends; and, when she left the hospital,"'Believe me,' she said: 'when you come out yourself, don't wasteyour time looking for a place. Come to me: I can accommodate you.

I'll teach you what I know; and, if you are industrious, you'll makeyour living, and you'll be free.'

"It was to her room that I went straight from the hospital, carrying,tied in a handkerchief, my entire baggage, - one dress, and a fewundergarments that the good sisters had given me.

"She received me like a sister, and after showing me her lodging,two little attic-rooms shining with cleanliness,"'You'll see,' she said, kissing me, 'how happy we'll be here.'

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It was getting late. M. Fortin had long ago come up and put outthe gas on the stairs. One by one, every noise had died away inthe hotel. Nothing now disturbed the silence of the night savethe distant sound of some belated cab on the Boulevard. But neitherMaxence nor Mlle. Lucienne were noticing the flight of time, sointerested were they, one in telling, and the other in listening to,this story of a wonderful existence. However, Mlle. Lucienne' svoice had become hoarse with fatigue. She poured herself a glassof water, which she emptied at a draught, and then at once,"Never yet," she resumed, "had I been agitated by such a sweetsensation. My eyes were full of tears; but they were tears ofgratitude and joy. After so many years of isolation, to meet withsuch a friend, so generous, and so devoted: it was like finding afamily. For a few weeks, I thought that fate had relented at last.

My friend was an excellent workwoman; but with some intelligence,and the will to learn, I soon knew as much as she did.

"There was plenty of work. By working twelve hours, with the helpof the thrice-blessed sewing-machine, we succeeded in making six,seven, and even eight francs a day. It was a fortune.

"Thus several months elapsed in comparative comfort.

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"Once more I was afloat, and I had more clothes than I had lost inmy trunk. I liked the life I was leading; and I would be leadingit still, if my friend had not one day fallen desperately in lovewith a young man she had meet at a ball. I disliked him very much,and took no trouble to conceal my feelings: nevertheless, my friendimagined that I had designs upon him, and became fiercely, jealousof me. Jealousy does not reason; and I soon understood that wewould no longer be able to live in common, and that I must lookelsewhere for shelter. But my friend gave me no time to do so.

Coming home one Monday night at about eleven, she notified me toclear out at once. I attempted to expostulate: she replied withabuse. Rather than enter upon a degrading struggle, I yielded,and went out.

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That night I spent on a chair in a neighbor's room. But the nextday, when I went for my things, my former friend refused to givethem, and presumed to keep every thing. I was compelled, thoughreluctantly, to resort to the intervention of the commissary ofpolice.

I gained my point. But the good days had gone. Luck did not followme to the wretched furnished house where I hired a room. I had nosewing-machine, and but few acquaintances. By working fifteen orsixteen hours a day, I made thirty or forty cents. That was notenough to live on. Then work failed me altogether, and, piece bypiece, every thing I had went to the pawnbroker's. On a gloomyDecember morning, I was turned out of my room, and left on thepavement with a ten-cent-piece for my fortune.

Never had I been so low; and I know not to what extremities I mighthave come at last, when I happened to 'think of that wealthy ladywhose horses had upset me on the Boulevard. I had kept her card.

Without hesitation, I went unto a grocery, and calling for somepaper and a pen, I wrote, overcoming the last struggle of my pride,"'Do you remember, madame, a poor girl whom your carriage came nearcrushing to death? Once before she applied to you, and received noanswer. She is to-day without shelter and without bread; and youare her supreme hope.'

"I placed these few lines in an envelope, and ran to the addressindicated on the card. It was a magnificent residence, with a vastcourt-yard in front. In the porter's lodge, five or six servantswere talking as I came in, and looked at me impudently, from headto foot, when I requested them to take my letter to Mme. de Thaller.

One of them, however, took pity on me,"'Come with me,' he said, 'come along !'

"He made me cross the yard, and enter the vestibule; and then,"Give me your letter,' he said, 'and wait here for me.'"Maxence was about to express the thoughts which Mme. de Thaller'sname naturally suggested to his mind, but Mlle. Lucienne interruptedhim,"In all my life," she went on, "I had never seen any thing somagnificent as that vestibule with its tall columns, its tessellatedfloor, its large bronze vases filled with the rarest flowers, andits red velvet benches, upon which tall footmen in brilliant liverywere lounging.