Ah, no, he is not unkind, he is
kinder than any one--you do not understand, Jeanne-Marie, and I
cannot tell you, but I am very unhappy." She put her arms
round the woman's neck, and hid her face on her shoulder. In
truth, Jeanne-Marie did not understand what all this terrible
grief and despair were about. Madelon, as we know, had never
confided her hopes, and plans, and wishes to her; but she knew
that the child whom she loved better than all the world was in
trouble, and that she must send her away without being able to
say a word to comfort her, and that seemed hard to bear.
So they sat silent for awhile; and then Jeanne-Marie got up.
"You must go, _ma petite_," she said; "Madame is waiting, and I
came to fetch you." She walked to the door, and then turned
round suddenly. "_Ecoutez, mon enfant_," she said, placing her
two hands on Madelon's shoulders, and looking down into her
face, "you will not forget me? I--I should not like to think
you will go away, and forget me."
"Never!" cried Madelon; "how could I? I will never forget you,
Jeanne-Marie, and some day, if I can, I will come back and see
you.
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