It required a moment to cross this space; and that was time enough to
change all the girl's intentions.

She had not traversed a quarter of the distance before she bitterly
regretted having shown herself at all. But to retrace her steps now was
impossible, for Marie-Anne, who was still standing upon the threshold,
had seen her approaching.

There remained barely time to regain her self-control, and to compose
her features. She profited by it.

She had her sweetest smile upon her lips as she greeted Marie-Anne.
Still she was embarrassed; she did not know what excuse to give for her
visit, and to gain time she pretended to be quite out of breath.

"Ah! it is not very easy to reach you, dear Marie-Anne," she said, at
last; "you live _upon_ the summit of a veritable mountain."

Mlle. Lacheneur said not a word. She was greatly surprised, and she did
not attempt to conceal the fact.

"Aunt Medea pretended to know the road," continued Mlle. Blanche, "but
she led me astray; did you not, aunt?"

As usual, the impecunious relative assented, and her niece resumed:

"But at last we are here. I could not, my dearest, resign myself to
hearing nothing from you, especially after all your misfortunes. What
have you been doing? Did my recommendation procure for you the work you
desired?"