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Updated: June 24, 2025
He was the descendant of the cousins of the Virgin, the master, the superb son, showing himself in all his beauty at the side of his father. Just then Felicien smiled sweetly at her, and she did not see the angry look of Monseigneur, who had remarked her standing on the chair, above the crowd, blushing in her pride and love. "Oh, my poor dear child!" sighed Hubertine.
Hubertine turned very pale as she listened. "You must have heard his history spoken of?" continued the beggar-woman. "His mother died soon after his birth, and it was on that account that Monseigneur concluded to become a clergyman. Now, however, after all these years, he sent for his son to join him. He is, in fact, Felicien VII d'Hautecoeur, with a title as if he were a real prince."
"Ah!" she said softly, "how beautiful it was yesterday! The sunshine is always perfect." Hubertine shook her head as she stopped to wax her thread. "As for me, I am so wearied, it seems as if I had no arms, and it tires me to work. But that is not strange, for I so seldom go out, and am no longer young and strong, as you are at sixteen." Angelique had reseated herself and resumed her work.
Quite discountenanced by this reception, Felicien would not have dared to have taken a seat, had not Hubertine welcomed him cordially, as she smiled in her sweet, quiet way at this excellent customer. Almost immediately she resumed her work, bending over the frame where she was embroidering on the sides of the mitre the Gothic ornaments in guipure, or open lacework.
Hubert shut the door, while Hubertine, bearing her burden, passed through the front room, which served as a parlour, and where some embroidered bands were spread out for show before the great square window.
And under this candid forehead, as under the crystal of the purest water, Hubertine read her thoughts clearly, and followed them as they formed themselves in her mind one by one. At nine o'clock they were greatly surprised by a ringing of the door-bell.
A sudden feeling of deep tenderness made her open her arms, and the young girl threw herself upon her breast, and in silence they clasped each other in a loving embrace. Then, when Hubertine was able to speak, she said: "Ah! my poor child, I have been impatient to be alone with you, for you must know that now all is at an end; yes, quite at an end."
The cold seemed to increase with the wan daylight, and in the dull thickness of the great white shroud which covered the town one heard, as if from a distance, the sound of voices. But timid, ashamed of her abandonment, as if it were a fault, the child drew still farther back, when suddenly she recognised before her Hubertine, who, having no servant, had gone out to buy bread.
Hubertine replied, as she smiled in an amused way: "Oh! as for ghosts, I have never seen any of them myself." But in reality, she remembered perfectly the history, which she had read long ago, and to satisfy the eager questionings of the young girl, she was obliged to relate it over again. The land belonged to the Bishopric of Rheims, since the days of Saint Remi, who had received it from Clovis.
Hubertine had just taken off her hat and gloves, and he at once told her of his having found the child on the floor in a dead faint, that she was now sleeping on her bed, overcome with weakness, and almost lifeless. "We have really been greatly mistaken. She thinks constantly of this young man, and it is killing her by inches.
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