“Madelaine!” exclaimed Betty, “what a pretty frock!” “Ah, madame--I go to a dressmaker’s by day now--the old miser is content to have me work for her at night.” She shrugged her slender shoulders. “It saves her my meals.” She had not become a dressmaker for nothing. Every stitch and flounce told, bringing out the beauty and lithe grace of the girl. She was panting: “Yes, madame. But--mon Dieu, you are of a surety amongst the stars here!” Her pretty scarlet lips smiled. “Amongst the stars--as the angels always are. But--ah, yes--I went and put on decent clothes and took your letter to Mademoiselle Babette, madame; but she was out--she is preparing for the Bal des Quatz Arts to-night--has gone out with Monsieur Horace and the others.... Mon Dieu, yes; you live amongst the stars, madame.” “Madelaine, have you kept the carriage waiting?” “Yes, madame--it is below.” Betty arose wearily from her seat: “Will you help me to carry down my trunk?” Madelaine looked at her sharply: “Mon Dieu, no, madame,” said she. “_I_ will carry it. No--Hodendouche shall carry it--he grows fat. Yes, madame; do not interfere with me--I will call him----” She skipped out on to the landing with swift light step, and hailed Hodendouche from below. She came back, her lips parted with the exertion. “Madelaine,” said Betty--“will you come to the station and see me off?” “Mon Dieu, yes, madame. I would have gone if I had walked--in tight new shoes.” Betty laughed sadly. She went to her and put her hands on the girl’s shoulders. She held her off at arm’s length. There was a lovely glow on the girl’s beautiful dark Southern face. “Madelaine, you are all a-tremor! What has happened?” Madelaine laughed gaily: “Ah, madame; it was intoxicating,” she said. She hesitated--almost shyly for Madelaine. “When I drove through the streets--in the carriage--it was splendid.... All the world thought I was some man’s mistress----” “Oh, Madelaine!” “Come, madame,” said Madelaine--“here’s Hodendouche.” Hodendouche entered the room with a set smile, and took off his cap. Madelaine turned to him: “Ah, Hodendouche,” said she--“what a climb to reach the stars!... But now you are here, pick up that box and take it downstairs; Madame will follow us in a minute.” As the grunting Hodendouche shouldered the trunk, and, followed by Madelaine, left the room, Betty went to the bed and put the letter upon the white coverlet; and for awhile she lingered there. She sat down on the side of the bed. Ah, youth’s couch! what limitless imaginings hath thy pillow known! what vasty ambitions have burnt out upon thee! what schemings and plannings for the payments of the bare needs of life! Tears thou hast known, and sighs--but the stars glittered ever in the firmament even when it was darkest; and at every rebuff Resolution reborn put out wounded hands to the heights.