could see her, and then she sighed deeply.

"What is the matter now?" said Edouard, opening his eyes.

She looked at him point-blank for one moment; and her scale turned.

"Monsieur," said she timidly, "you have a good face, and a good heart.
All I told you was--give me your honor not to betray us."

"I swear it," said Edouard, a little pompously.

"Then--Dard was not so far from the truth; it was but a guess of his,
for I never trusted my own sweetheart as I now trust a stranger. But to
see what I see every day, and have no one I dare breathe a word to, oh,
it is very hard! But on what a thread things turn! If any one had told
me an hour ago it was you I should open my heart to! It's not economy:
it's not stinginess; they are not paying off their debts. They never
can. The baroness and the Demoiselles de Beaurepaire--are paupers."

"Paupers, Jacintha?"

"Ay, paupers! their debts are greater than their means. They live here
by sufferance. They have only their old clothes to wear. They have
hardly enough to eat. Just now our cow is in full milk, you know; so
that is a great help: but, when she goes dry, Heaven knows what we shall
do; for I don't. But that is not the worst; better a light meal than a
broken heart. Your precious government offers the chateau for sale.
They might as well send for the guillotine at once, and cut off all our
heads. You don't know my mistress as I do. Ah, butchers, you will drag
nothing out of that but her corpse. And is it come to this? the great