illegitimate child, and entertained a friendship for "a person in
Dozule."

These base actions affected her very much. In March, 1853, she developed
a pain in her chest; her tongue looked as if it were coated with smoke,
and the leeches they applied did not relieve her oppression; and on the
ninth evening she died, being just seventy-two years old.

People thought that she was younger, because her hair, which she wore in
bands framing her pale face, was brown. Few friends regretted her loss,
for her manner was so haughty that she did not attract them. Felicite
mourned for her as servants seldom mourn for their masters. The fact
that Madame should die before herself perplexed her mind and seemed
contrary to the order of things, and absolutely monstrous and
inadmissible. Ten days later (the time to journey from Besancon), the
heirs arrived. Her daughter-in-law ransacked the drawers, kept some of
the furniture, and sold the rest; then they went back to their own home.

Madame's armchair, foot-warmer, work-table, the eight chairs, everything
was gone! The places occupied by the pictures formed yellow squares on
the walls. They had taken the two little beds, and the wardrobe had been
emptied of Virginia's belongings! Felicite went upstairs, overcome with
grief.

The following day a sign was posted on the door; the chemist screamed in
her ear that the house was for sale.

For a moment she tottered, and had to sit down.

What hurt her most was to give up her room,--so nice for poor Loulou!