It was with a sort of dread that she finally opened the door of the room on the fifth floor that she occupied with her godmother. The poor woman was lying on the only bed the two women possessed. A thin mattress now rolled up out of the way in a corner, but laid on the floor at night, served as a bed for Mariette. A table, an old bureau, two chairs, a few cooking utensils hanging on the wall near the fireplace, were the only articles of furniture in the dimly lighted room, but everything was scrupulously clean. Madame Lacombe--for that was the invalid's name--was a tall, frightfully pale, and emaciated woman, about fifty years of age, with a peevish, disagreeable face. Bent nearly double in the bed, one could see of her only her mutilated arm swathed in bandages, and her irascible face, surrounded by an old cap from which a wisp of gray hair crept out here and there, while her bluish lips were continually distorted by a bitter and sardonic smile. Madame Lacombe seemed to be suffering greatly. At all events she was in an execrable temper, and her hollow eyes gleamed ominously. Making an effort to turn herself in bed, so as to get a look at her godchild, she exclaimed, wrathfully: "Where on earth have you been all this time, you gadabout?" "I have been gone barely an hour, godmother." "And you hoped to find me dead when you got back, didn't you, now? Oh, you needn't deny it. You've had enough of me, yes, too much. The day my coffin lid is screwed down will be a happy day for you, and for me, too, for it is too bad, too bad for any one to have to suffer as I do," added the poor woman, pressing her hand upon her bosom, and groaning heavily. Mariette dried the tears her godmother's sarcastic words had excited, and approaching the sufferer, said, gently: "You had such a bad night last night that I hoped you would be more comfortable to-day and get a little sleep while I was out." "If I suffer or if I starve to death it makes no difference to you, evidently, provided you can run the streets." "I went out this morning because I was absolutely obliged to, godmother, but before I left I asked Madame Justin--" "I'd as lief see a death's-head as that creature, so when you want to get rid of me you have only to send her to wait on me." "Shall I dress your arm, godmother?" "No, it is too late for that now. You stayed away on purpose. I know you did." "I am sorry I was late, but won't you let me dress it now?" "I wish to heaven you would leave me in peace." "But your arm will get worse if you don't have it dressed." "And that is exactly what you want." "Oh, godmother, don't say that, I beg of you." "Don't come near me! I won't have it dressed, I say." "Very well, godmother," replied the girl, sighing. Then she added, "I asked Madame Justin to bring up your milk. Here it is. Would you like me to warm it a little?"