“This atrocious humiliation happened scarcely a year ago, monsieur,” she resumed; “and there is but little left for me to tell you. My expulsion from Sainte-Marthe made M. de Chalusse frantic with indignation. He knew something that I was ignorant of--that Madame de Rochecote, who enacted the part of a severe and implacable censor, was famed for the laxity of her morals. The count’s first impulse was to wreak vengeance on my persecutors; for, in spite of his usual coolness, M. de Chalusse had a furious temper at times. It was only with the greatest difficulty that I dissuaded him from challenging General de Rochecote, who was living at the time. However, it now became necessary to make some other arrangements for me. M. de Chalusse offered to find another school, promising to take such precautions as would insure my peace of mind. But I interrupted him before he had spoken a dozen words, declaring I would rather return to the book-binders than chance another such experiment. And what I said I meant. A subterfuge--a fictitious name, for instance--could alone shield me from persecution similar to what I had endured at Sainte-Marthe. But I knew that I was incapable of playing such a part--I felt that I should somehow confess everything. My firmness imparted some resolution to M. de Chalusse. He exclaimed, with an oath, that I was right--that he was weary of all this deception and concealment, and that he would make arrangements to have me near him. ‘Yes,’ he concluded, embracing me, ‘the die is cast, come what may!’ “However, these measures required a certain delay; and, in the meantime, he decided to install me in Paris, which is the only place where one can successfully hide from prying eyes. He purchased a small but convenient house, surrounded by a garden, in the neighborhood of the Luxembourg Palace, and here he installed me, with two old women and a trusty man-servant. As I needed a chaperon, he went in quest of one, and found Madame Leon.” On hearing this name, the magistrate gave the young girl a searching look, as if he hoped to discover what estimate she had formed of the housekeeper’s character, as well as what degree of confidence she had granted her. But Mademoiselle Marguerite’s face remained unaltered in expression.