"Really I cannot help it, it seems to me, monsieur; could I find such surroundings as these in the home of a person whose means are as modest as mine? Besides, I ought not to say it, perhaps, but I am so keenly sensitive to certain faults of education and manner that I should positively suffer at times. It is silly and ridiculous, I know, for lack of breeding does not lessen the virtue and kindness of most of the people of the class to which I belong, but to which my education has rendered me somewhat superior. Still it is intensely repugnant to me, and I consequently prefer to live alone, in spite of the many inconveniences of such an isolated position. Another objection is that I should be under an obligation to any person who would receive me into her family, and I fear that I might be made to feel this obligation too much." "All this is very natural," said the hunchback, after a moment's reflection. "It would scarcely be possible for one of your proud nature to act or feel otherwise, and this pride, which I admire so much in you, has been, and I am sure always will be, your best safeguard. But this will not prevent me, with your permission, of course, from coming now and then to see if I can serve you in any way." "Can you doubt the pleasure, the very great pleasure it will give me to see you?" "I will not so wrong you as to doubt it, my dear child." Seeing M. de Maillefort rise to take leave, Herminie felt strongly tempted to make some inquiry concerning Ernestine de Beaumesnil, whom he had probably seen ere this; but the young girl feared she might betray herself and arouse M. de Maillefort's suspicions by speaking of her sister. "Farewell, my dear child," said the marquis, rising. "I came here in the hope of finding a daughter to love and protect, and I shall not return with an empty heart. And now again, farewell--and _au revoir_." "And soon, I hope, M. le marquis," responded Herminie, with respectful deference. "Nonsense!" said the hunchback, smiling. "There is no marquis here, but an old man who loves you,--yes, loves you with all his heart. Don't forget that." "Oh, I shall never forget it, monsieur." "Good, that promise atones for everything. Once more au revoir, my child." And M. de Maillefort departed, still in doubt as to Herminie's identity, and no less in doubt in regard to the best means of carrying out Madame de Beaumesnil's last wishes. The young girl, left alone, reflected long upon the incidents of the day, which, after all, had proved a happy one for her, for by refusing a gift which proved her mother's deep solicitude for her welfare, but which might compromise that mother's memory, the young girl had gained M. de Maillefort's warm friendship. But the payment made to M. Bouffard by a stranger was a terrible blow to Herminie's pride.