evidence of that. I am even ready to swear that the allurements of the
imagination or the impulses of passion are wholly foreign to her errors,
which thus remain without excuse."

"Oh! mon Dieu!" exclaimed Madame de Malouet, clasping her hands, "do hush!
she is a poor, forsaken child! I know her better than you do. I assure you
that beneath her appearance--much too frivolous, I admit--she possesses in
fact as much heart as she does sense."

"That is precisely what I think, madam; as much one of as of the other."

"Ah! that is really intolerable," murmured Madame de Malouet, dropping her
arms in a disconsolate manner.

At the same moment, I saw the curtain that half covered the door by the
side of which we sat shake violently, and the Little Countess, leaving the
hiding-place where she had been confined by the exigencies of I know not
what game, showed herself to us for a moment in the aperture of the door,
and returned to join the group of players that stood in the adjoining
parlor. I looked at Madame de Malouet:

"What! she was there!"

"Of course she was. She heard us, and, what's more, she could see us. I
made all the signs I could, but you were off!"

I remained somewhat embarrassed. I regretted the harshness of my words;
for, in attacking so violently this young person, I had yielded to the
excitement of controversy much more than to a sentiment of serious
animadversion. In point of fact, she is indifferent to me, but it's a