him, for there was that in her eyes which gave his quick suspicions the
lie. He guessed now that the girl loved Valmond, and he left her with
that thought. Going up the hill, deep in thought, he called at the
Manor, to find that Madame Chalice was absent, and would not be back
till evening.

When Elise was left alone, a weakness seized her again, as it had done
when De la Riviere was present. She had had no sleep in four days, and
it was wearing on her, she said to herself, refusing to believe that a
sickness was coming. Leaving the kitchen, she went up to her bedroom.
Opening the window, she sat down on the side of the bed and looked round.
She figured Valmond in her mind as he stood in this place and that, his
voice, his words to her, the look in his face, the clasp of his hand.

All at once she sprang up, fell on her knees before the little shrine of
the Virgin, and burst into tears. Her rich hair, breaking loose, flowed
round her-the picture of a Magdalen; but it was, in truth, a pure girl
with a true heart. At last she calmed herself and began to pray:

"Ah, dear Mother of God, thou who dost speak for the sorrowful before thy
Son and the Father, be merciful to me and hear me. I am but a poor girl,
and my life is no matter. But he is a great man, and he has work to do,
and he is true and kind. Oh, pray for him, divine Mother, sweet Mary,
that he may be saved from death! If the cup must be emptied, may it be
given to me to drink! Oh, see how all the people come to him and love
him! For the saving of Madelinette, oh, may his own life be given him!
He cannot pray for himself, but I pray for him. Dear Mother of God, I
love him, and I would lose my life for his sake. Sweet Mary, comfort thy
child, and out of thy own sorrow be good to my sorrow. Hear me and pray
for me, divine Mary. Amen."