sides, this one was so bad—one could see that readily enough. She belonged to the opera, I was told. All of those creatures come to some bad end. She placed herself before the window, tied her skirts about her with a rose-coloured ribbon, and"
"It is that poor girl in mourning!" cried Madame de Piennes, speaking to herself.
"Yes, madam, her mother died three or four days ago. Her head may have been turned with grief. With all that, perhaps her lover left her in the lurch—and then the end came— No money; such people don't know how to work— Bad heads! By-and-by misfortune comes"
Mademoiselle Josephine continued in this strain for some time, unheeded by Madame de Piennes. She seemed to be thinking sadly over the story she had just heard. Suddenly she demanded of Mademoiselle Josephine:
"Does any one know if that poor girl has what she needs in her present condition—linen, pillows? I wish to know immediately."
"I will go and make inquiries for madam, if madam wishes," cried the maid, delighted at the chance of seeing at close range a woman who had wished to kill herself. Then, reflecting:
"But," she added, "I do not know as I
