fied her courage, said a fervent prayer, and, when it was time, she went out and walked with a firm step to the chamber of Arsène.
III
She found the poor girl in a pitiful condition. It was apparent that her last hour was near, and since the day before the disease had made horrible progress. Her breathing was no more than a painful death-rattle, and they told Madame de Piennes that she had been delirious several times during the morning, and that the doctor did not think that she could live until the morrow.
Arsène, however, recognised her protectress and thanked her for coming to see her.
"You will no longer fatigue yourself by mounting my staircase," she said to her in a voice almost inaudible.
Each word seemed to cost her a painful effort and weaken the little strength remaining to her. It was necessary to lean over her bed in order to hear her. Madame de Piennes had taken her hand, and it was already cold and lifeless.
Max arrived presently and silently ap-
