Only an
hour ago she had been so full of joy and hope, with such a
bright future before her; and now the rain and wind were
beating in her face, above her the black sky, darkness all
around; where indeed was she going?
"But you have some friends here?" said Horace--"you are not
staying here all alone?"
"Yes, I am all alone," said Madelon, sobbing. "Oh! what shall
I do?--what shall I do?"
"Don't cry so, Madelon," said Graham, "my poor child, don't be
frightened. I will take care of you, but I want you to tell me
all about this. Do you mean you are all alone in Spa?"
"Yes, I am all alone; I came here three days ago. I had been
ill at Le Trooz, and a woman there--Jeanne-Marie--took care of
me; but as soon as I was well and had money enough, I came to
Spa, and went to the Hotel de Madrid. Papa and I used to go
there, and I knew Madame Bertrand who keeps it."
"So you slept there last night," said Horace, not a little
mystified at the story, but trying to elucidate some fact
sufficiently plain to act upon.
"Yes, last light, and before. I left my things there, and
meant to have gone back to-night, but I have no money now.
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