Madelon turned round
quickly: behind her stood a woman with rouged cheeks, a low
evening dress half concealed by a black lace shawl, beads and
bracelets on her neck and arms--a common figure enough--there
were half-a-dozen more such in the room--and she took no more
notice of Madelon, but went on pricking her card without
speaking to her again. But to the child there came a quick
revulsion of feeling, that she could not have explained, as
she shrank away from her gaudily-attired neighbour. All at
once the game seemed somehow to have lost its interest and
excitement; the crowds, the heat, the light, suddenly
oppressed her; for the first time her heart gave way. She felt
scared, friendless, lonely. There came to her mind a thought
of the peaceful faces of the black-robed sisters, a sound as
of the tinkling bell ringing above the old cabbage-ground, a
breath sweet with the scent of fresh roses in Jeanne-Marie's
little garden; she had a momentary impulse to go, to fly
somewhere, anywhere--ah! but whither? Whither in all the wide
world could she go? Back to the convent to be made a nun? Back
to Jeanne-Marie with her promise unfulfilled? "I will keep my
promise, I will not be frightened," thinks the poor child,
bravely; "I will fancy that papa is in the room, and that he
will take care of me.
Pages:
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454