"
"To be a nun!--a child like you? How could they think of such a
thing?" cried the good old woman. "And you look tired out.
Come in here and tell me all about it."
She drew her into the little parlour as she spoke.
Mademoiselle Henriette was sitting at the high desk in the
window looking on the garden, and some one else was there too,
fanning herself in one of the worsted-work chairs. It was
Madame la Comtesse, who had come there to settle her husband's
business with Madame Bertrand. Both looked up as the landlady
came into the room, half carrying, half dragging Madelon.
"_Pauvre petite! pauvre petite!_" she kept on saying, shaking
and nodding her kind old head the while.
She made the child lie down on the sofa, pulled a cushion
under her head, and then introduced her generally with "They
wanted to make her a nun, and so she has run away from the
convent."
"Run away!" cried Mademoiselle Henriette, turning quite round.
"Well, I thought there was something very queer----"
"Run away!" cried the Countess. "Dear me, but that is very
naughty!"
These little speeches, coming in the midst of Madame
Bertrand's effusive benevolence, seemed quite irrelevant to
the matter in hand, but nevertheless imparted a sudden chill.
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