The heavenly love of a mother, who had partaken of divinity, and that earthly love, which draws us closer to the gates of heaven, had watched over the young girl in her deepest humiliation. Toward morning, she fell asleep, with a fragment of the Lord’s Prayer upon her lips. It seemed to her in that half dreamy state, as if her parents were both listening as they had done years ago, and smiled to think that she was asking help of God once more. All day the poor girl slept. Once or twice an officer came in to arouse her, but there was something so child-like and happy in her slumber, that he went out again, leaving her undisturbed. Toward nightfall, Catharine awoke, and after partaking of some coarse food, which the captain of police had ordered for her, she took up her little bundle and prepared to go forth into the streets again. Her plans were no longer in confusion. She would go to Madame De Marke, and ask the protection denied by her own relative; this was a duty which she certainly owed to De Marke, before throwing herself upon the wide world. She had little hope of conciliating the eccentric old woman, but resolved for his sake to brave the interview. Very slowly, for she was still too feeble for much exertion, Catharine made her way down the city, strengthened by her own steady purpose, and saved from torturous feelings of suspense by the very hopelessness of her project. It was nightfall before she reached her destination. The dim stairs, over which she trod, creaked gloomily beneath her light footsteps, adding to the evil foreboding that crept closer and closer around her heart, as she entered the shadow of that now half-deserted building. Her pace grew more rapid as she advanced, for the courage of desperation was upon her; and her knock against the half-closed door of Madame De Marke’s room was clear and firm. “Who is wanting me?” inquired a snappish voice, and the door was partly opened. “Who is it? you, Jane Kelly? come in, my pet, come in. Is it good news or bad that you bring me? Come in out of the passage. What keeps you hanging back so? Putting on airs, eh? making believe you are in no hurry for the mate to that ear-ring, the sparkler? All fudge and nonsense; just as if I didn’t understand it all. Come in with you—there, there, now lift your veil.” The old woman had drawn Catharine through the door with great eagerness, clutching her arm with those claw-like fingers till the poor child almost called out with pain. She felt that the old woman was trembling with some emotion, which struck her as intense rage, and when her veil was drawn aside it revealed a face so pallid with affright, that for a moment the old woman did not recognize it. “What? what?” she hissed at last, as the certainty of her identity forced itself upon her, “you alive and here. Oh! ha! she shall pay for this!” As she spoke, the wretch clutched her hand with a more cruel gripe around the young girl’s arm, and gave her a fierce shake.