faithful creature endeavoured to divert her thoughts into another
channel, by inviting her to partake of the little feast provided by
the kindness of her employer. Margaret being in the habit of taking
her meals in the house where she worked, the noble Lady Marie Anne
Adelaide de Vatteville was thus usually left alone and unattended, to
eat the scanty fare prescribed by the extreme narrowness of her
resources; so that she now felt quite cheered by the novel comfort,
not merely of the better-spread table, but of the company of her
faithful servant; and it was in an almost mirthful tone she said, when
the repast was ended: 'Margaret, I have a secret to confide to you. I
will not--I ought not to keep it any longer to myself.'

'A secret, my dear mistress! a secret from me!' exclaimed the faithful
creature in a slightly reproachful tone.

'Yes, dear Margaret, a secret from you; but to be so no longer. No
more henceforth of the toils you have undergone for me; they must be
given up: I cannot do without you. At my age, to be left alone is
intolerable. When you are not near me, I get so lonely, and sometimes
feel quite afraid, I cannot tell of what, but I suppose it is natural
to the old to fear; and often--will you believe it?--I catch myself
weeping like a very child. Ah! when age comes on us, we lose all
strength, all fortitude. But you will not leave me any more? Promise
me, dear Margaret.'

'But in that case what is to become of us?' said Margaret.

'This is the very thing I have to tell. And now listen to me. Take
this key, and in the right-hand drawer of the press you will find the
green casket, where, among my letters and family papers, you will see