"Should I be here otherwise?" demanded Marguerite pathetically. "And the journey!—What I endured!—for I saw guillotines round every corner, and suspicious patriots on every doorstep. It is a miracle that we are here; and now that we have come, it is all very well for Madame my aunt, who has come here to die, and requires no food to accomplish that end; but for me, I do not fancy starving, and we have nothing to eat in the house." "Oh, my poor dear! What made you come?" "Could I let her come alone? She is too old and too weak; but I ought to have locked the door and kept the key—only, old as she is, she can still make every one do as she wants." "You are not alone?" "Jean and Louise, her old servants, started with us; but Jean got himself arrested. Poor Jean, he could not pretend well enough." "And Louise?" "Oh, Louise is there, but she is nearly as old as Madame." "You must have food," said Aline decidedly. "I will bring you some." "Oh, you angel!" exclaimed Marguerite, kissing her through the bars. "When you came I was standing here trying to screw up my courage to go down to the inn and ask for some." "Oh, not the inn," said Aline quickly; "that’s the last place to go. I ’m afraid there ’s danger everywhere, but I ’ll do what I can. Go back to the château, and I ’ll come as soon as possible." "Yes, as soon as possible, please, for I am hungry enough to eat you, my dear. See, have n’t I got thin—yes, and pale too? I assure you that I have a most interesting air." "Does M. my cousin find pallor interesting?" inquired Aline teasingly. "No, my dear; he has a bourgeois’s taste for colour. He compared me once to a carnation, but I punished him well for that. I stole the vinegar, and drank enough to make me feel shockingly ill. Then I powdered my cheeks, and then—then I talked all the evening to M. de Maillé!" "And my cousin, M. le Chevalier, what did he do?" Marguerite gave an irrepressible giggle. "He went away, and I was just beginning to feel that perhaps he had been punished enough, when back he came, very easy and smiling, with a sweet large and beautiful bouquet of white carnations, and with an elegant bow he begged me to accept them, since white was my preference, though for his part he preferred the beauteous red that blushed like happy love!" "And then?" Marguerite’s voice became very demure. "Poor grandmamma used to say life was compromise, so I compromised; next morning I did not drink vinegar, and I wore a blush pink bud in my hair. M. le Chevalier was pleased to admire it extravagantly." Aline ran off laughing, but she was grave enough before she had gone very far, for certainly the situation was not an easy one. She racked her brains for a plan, but could find none; and when she came in, Mlle Marthe’s quick eyes at once discerned that something was wrong. "What is it, child?" she said hastily. "Was Mathieu rude?" "My dear, how late you are," said Mlle Ange, looking up from her needlework.