CHAPTER XXXIII.

CONFESSIONS.

During the painful scene that we have just described, a lively emotion
glowed in the countenance of Mdlle. de Cardoville, grown pale and thin
with sorrow. Her cheeks, once so full, were now slightly hollowed, whilst
a faint line of transparent azure encircled those large black eyes, no
longer so bright as formerly. But the charming lips, though contracted by
painful anxiety, had retained their rich and velvet moisture. To attend
more easily to Mother Bunch, Adrienne had thrown aside her bonnet, and
the silky waves of her beautiful golden hair almost concealed her face as
she bent over the mattress, rubbing the thin, ivory hands of the poor
sempstress, completely called to life by the salubrious freshness of the
air, and by the strong action of the salts which Adrienne carried in her
smelling-bottle. Luckily, Mother Bunch had fainted, rather from emotion
and weakness than from the effects of suffocation, the senses of the
unfortunate girl having failed her before the deleterious gas had
attained its highest degree of intensity.

Before continuing the recital of the scene between the sempstress and the
patrician, a few retrospective words will be necessary. Since the strange
adventure at the theatre of the Porte-Saint-Martin, where Djalma, at
peril of his life, rushed upon the black panther in sight of Mdlle. de
Cardoville, the young lady had been deeply affected in various ways.
Forgetting her jealousy, and the humiliation she had suffered in presence
of Djalma--of Djalma exhibiting himself before every one with a woman so
little worthy of him--Adrienne was for a moment dazzled by the chivalrous
and heroic action of the prince, and said to herself: "In spite of odious
appearances, Djalma loves me enough to brave death in order to pick up my