"
"Ah, what shall I do? what do you think would be best?" said
poor Madelon, piteously, suddenly breaking down in the grown-
up part she had been half unconsciously acting, and ready to
burst into tears. Things were not turning out at all as she
had wished or intended. "I did want a room, but I thought I
should have found Madame Bertrand, and she would have helped
me; I don't know what to do now."
"Do you know my aunt? I am Madame Bertrand's niece," says
Mademoiselle Henriette in explanation. "She will not be in
just yet, but if you like to wait in here a little while, you
can do so, or you can return by-and-by."
She opened the door of a small parlour as she spoke, and stood
aside for Madelon to enter. A little faded room, with a high
desk standing in the window, gaudy ornaments on the
mantelpiece, a worn Utrecht velvet sofa, and a semicircle of
worsted-work chairs--not much in it all to awaken enthusiasm,
one would think, and yet, as Madelon came in, she forgot
disappointment, and fatigue, and everything else for a moment,
in a glad recognition of well-remembered objects.
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