The Madame’s enormous weight made her a burden to herself, and the unwonted exertion of the day had wearied her greatly. Comfortably established on a couch in her bedroom, she presently fell into a sleep so profound that she was not disturbed when her maid stole softly in at nightfall, drew the curtains, lighted the gas, and retired again. But a moment later the Madame awoke with a low cry, and starting to a sitting posture, rubbed her eyes and glanced hurriedly about the room. “Ah,” she sighed, sinking back again, “it was a dream, only a dream! I shall never see her more! My darling, oh, my darling! How could I be so cruel, so cruel! Pansy, Pansy! And I am so lonely, so lonely! with not a soul in the wide world to care for me!” Sobs and tears came thick and fast; then she rose, slowly crossed the room, turned up the gas, and unlocking her jewel-box, took from it a small, plain gold locket attached to a slender chain. It opened with a touch, showing a sweet, sunny child face, with smiling lips, soft, wavy brown hair, and large, dark, lustrous eyes. The Madame wept anew as she gazed upon it, and her broad breast heaved with sigh after sigh. “So many years! so many years!” she moaned, “and my search has been all in vain. Ah, dear one, are you yet in the land of the living? My darling, my darling!” and the tears fell in floods. But at length growing calmer, she restored the trinket to its place, turned down the gas, and staggering to an easy chair beside the window, dropped heavily into it. Her breath came pantingly, the tears still stood in her eyes. She wiped them away, and drawing aside the curtain, looked into the street. The moon had not yet risen, but the lamps were lighted, and there was a clear, starlit sky. She could see the passers-by as they hurried on their way, now singly, now in groups of two or more; mostly well, or at least comfortably, clad, and carrying brown-paper parcels suggestive of the coming festivities. A confectionery on the opposite corner was ablaze with light, showing a tempting array of sweets in the windows. It was crowded with customers, and there was a constant passing in and out of cheerful-looking men and women and bright-eyed, eager children. Presently a slender figure, apparently that of a very young girl, very shabbily dressed in faded calico and with an old shawl thrown over her head caught the Madame’s attention. She came suddenly around the corner, and though shivering with cold, her thin garments flapping in the wind, stood gazing with longing eyes upon the piles of fruit, cakes, and candies. The Madame’s eyes filled as she noted the child’s hungry look and scant clothing. With a great effort she rose and threw a shawl about her shoulders; then she went to a drawer in her bureau where she kept loose change, and returning, tapped on the sash, threw it up, and called to the girl, who had not moved from her station on the other side of the street.