Tell me, La Lorraine, what was the name of the young girl who has
been so kind to you?"
"She was called La Goualeuse. All my sorrow is that I have not seen her for
a long time. She was as beautiful as the Holy Virgin, with fine flaxen hair
and blue eyes, so sweet--so sweet! Unfortunately, notwithstanding her
assistance, my poor child died at two months," and Lorraine wiped away a
tear.
"Poor Lorraine!"
"I regret, my child, for myself, not for her, poor little dear! She would
have too much to struggle with, for she soon would have been an orphan. I
have not a long time to live."
"You should not have such ideas at your age. Have you been sick for a long
time?"
"It will soon be three months. Bless me! when I had to work for myself and
my child, I increased my labor; the winter was cold, I caught a cold on my
chest; at this time I lost my little girl. In watching her I forgot myself.
To that add sorrow, and I am what you see me, consumptive, doomed--as was
the actress who has just died."
"At your age there is always hope."
"The actress was only two years older, and you see---"
"She whom the good sisters are watching now, was she an actress?"
"Oh, yes--what a fate! She had been beautiful as the day. She had plenty of
money, equipages, diamonds, but, unfortunately, the small-pox disfigured
her; then want came, then poverty--behold her dead in the hospital.
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