It was, no doubt, fortunate, even at this early age, that
Madelon's little pale face, with its wide-open brown eyes, had
none of the prettiness belonging to the rosy-cheeked, blue-
eyed, golden-haired type of beauty, and that she thus escaped
a world of flattery and nonsense. She was silent too in
company, as a rule, keeping her chatter and laughter, for the
most part, till she was alone with her father, and content
sometimes to sit as quiet as a mouse for a whole evening,
watching what was going on around her; she was too much
accustomed to strangers ever to feel shy with them, but she
cared little for them, unless, as in Horace Graham's case,
they happened to take her fancy.
It must no be imagined, however, that M. Linders was quite
without conscience as regarded his child; there were some
people with whom he took care that she should not associate,
some society into which he never took her. Many an evening did
Madelon spend happily enough while her father was out, in the
snug little parlours of the hotels, where Madame, the
landlady, would be doing up her accounts perhaps, and
Monsieur, the landlord, reposing after the exertions of the
day; whilst Mademoiselle Madelon, seated at the table, would
build card-houses, or play at dominoes, and eat galette and
confitures to her heart's content.
Pages:
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84