Such a cosy little sitting-room was Madame's--low-ceilinged and odd-shaped, like an ordinary _entresol_ carried up a story; with French furniture in red velvet, with the walls covered with engravings and nicknacks and Danton's statuettes, and the tables littered "with scrofulous French novels" in their yellow paper covers. The room was lit by one large window and a half, the other half giving light to Madame's bedroom, which led out by a door, through which, when open, as it usually was, glimpses could be obtained of the end of a brass bedstead apparently dressed up in blue muslin. There was a cloth on the table, and Madame bustled about, and, assisted by her little French maid--the page-boy retired home after customers' hours--soon produced some sausage and the remains of a Strasbourg pie, bread, butter, and _fromage de Brie_, and from the cellar (which was a cupboard on the landing with a patent lock, where Madame kept a small stock of remarkably good wine) a bottle of champagne. Daisy could not eat very much, she was over-tired for that; but the wine did her good, and she talked much more freely than was her wont. Madame Clarisse was delighted with her; a certain bitterness in the girl's tone being specially appreciated by the Frenchwoman. After some little talk she said to her: "You still live in the same apartment, Fanfan?" "Yes, Madame--in the same garret." "Garret!" echoed Madame Clarisse. "_Eh bien_, what does it matter? Garret or palace, it makes little difference when one is young. 'Bravant le monde, et les sots et les sages, Sans avenir, fier de mon printemps, Leste et joyeux je montais six étages-- Dans un grenier qu'on est bien à vingt ans.'" And as she trolled out the verse in a rich voice, Madame's eyes looked very wicked, and she chinked her glass against her companion's. "Perhaps it is because I only live on the third story--though there's nothing above it--but I certainly never feel _leste_ or _joyeuse_," said the girl. "No?" said Madame interrogatively. "That's a sad thing to say. And yet you have youth and beauty, Fanfan." "Youth and beauty!" cried the girl. "If I have them, what good are they to me? Can they drag me out of this life of slavery, take me from that wretched garret, give me gowns and jewels, and horses, and carriages, and a position in life?" Daisy was full of excitement; the tones of her voice were thrilling, her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks were flushed. Madame Clarisse eyed her curiously. "Yes," she said, after a minute's pause; "they can do all this, and"--taking Daisy's hand--"some day, Fanfan, perhaps they may." "Perhaps they may," said Daisy. She was thinking of the chance of her marrying Paul Derinzy, whom she knew as Mr. Douglas. But Madame Clarisse did not know Mr. Derinzy, so she was not thinking of Daisy's marrying him--or anybody else, as it happened. CHAPTER XI. BEHIND THE SCENES.