This startling revelation, and the recollection of the strange way in which she had made Mlle. de Beaumesnil's acquaintance, as well as of the events which had occurred since their first meeting, gave Herminie a sort of vertigo. Her brain seemed to whirl; she turned pale, and trembled so violently, that Ernestine was obliged to assist her to a neighbouring armchair. There, kneeling beside her, and gazing up in her face with all a sister's tenderness, Mlle. de Beaumesnil took Herminie's hands in hers, and kissed them almost reverently, while the marquis stood contemplating this touching scene in silence. "Pardon me," faltered Herminie, "but the surprise,--the trying position in which I find myself, mademoiselle--" "Mademoiselle! Oh, do not call me that," exclaimed Mlle. de Beaumesnil. "Am I no longer your Ernestine, the orphan to whom you promised your friendship because you thought she was so unhappy? Alas! M. de Maillefort, your friend and mine, will tell you that I am indeed very unhappy, and that I am in even greater need of your tender affection than ever. What if I am no longer the poor little embroideress! The rich have their sorrows as well as the poor. In pity remember the words of my dying mother, who so often talked to you of me, and continue to love me for her sake." "Have no fears on that score. You will always be dear, doubly dear to me," replied Herminie; "but you see I have scarcely recovered from my bewilderment. It seems like a dream to me, and when I think of the way in which I became acquainted with you, Ernestine, and of a thousand other things, I have to see you here close beside me, to believe that it is not really all a dream." "Your surprise is very natural, my dear child," remarked the marquis, "and I myself, when I met Mlle. de Beaumesnil at your home a few days ago, was so overwhelmed with astonishment that, if something had not diverted your attention for a moment, you would have perceived my amazement; but Ernestine begged me to keep her secret, and I did." When Herminie had recovered from the shock sufficiently for her mind to become clear again, the first words she uttered were: "But, Ernestine, how did you happen to come to Madame Herbaut's? What is the meaning of all this mystery? Why did you wish to attend that reunion?" Ernestine, smiling sadly, took from a table the journal she had been writing, the journal dedicated to the memory of her mother, and, handing it to Herminie open at the page where were enumerated the divers reasons which had forced the richest heiress in France to resort to the painful test she had endured so heroically, the young girl said to the duchess: