from the only person of the De Crequy family that she cared about. But,
by dint of some small glasses out of a bottle of Antoine Meyer's, she
told him more about the De Crequys than she liked afterwards to remember.
For the exhilaration of the brandy lasted but a very short time, and she
came home, as I have said, depressed, with a presentiment of coming evil.
She would not answer Pierre, but cuffed him about in a manner to which
the spoilt boy was quite unaccustomed. His cousin's short, angry words,
and sudden withdrawal of confidence,--his mother's unwonted crossness and
fault-finding, all made Virginie's kind, gentle treatment, more than ever
charming to the lad. He half resolved to tell her how he had been acting
as a spy upon her actions, and at whose desire he had done it. But he
was afraid of Morin, and of the vengeance which he was sure would fall
upon him for any breach of confidence. Towards half-past eight that
evening--Pierre, watching, saw Virginie arrange several little things--she
was in the inner room, but he sat where he could see her through the
glazed partition. His mother sat--apparently sleeping--in the great easy-
chair; Virginie moved about softly, for fear of disturbing her. She made
up one or two little parcels of the few things she could call her own:
one packet she concealed about herself--the others she directed, and left
on the shelf. 'She is going,' thought Pierre, and (as he said in giving
me the account) his heart gave a spring, to think that he should never
see her again. If either his mother or his cousin had been more kind to
him, he might have endeavoured to intercept her; but as it was, he held
his breath, and when she came out he pretended to read, scarcely knowing
whether he wished her to succeed in the purpose which he was almost sure
she entertained, or not. She stopped by him, and passed her hand over
his hair. He told me that his eyes filled with tears at this caress.
Then she stood for a moment looking at the sleeping Madame Babette, and
stooped down and softly kissed her on the forehead. Pierre dreaded lest
his mother should awake (for by this time the wayward, vacillating boy