126 MADELINE.

wonder? She must be very cruel to turn away from mv dear
mamma.”

“Not cruel, my child.. She does not think it. She does
not know that your mother is living here; she thinks of her in
America, the home of your papa. She is stern, unforgiving,
but the heart suffers, I know, and if she knew all she would
be torn with grief.”

“Then I will go and teil her.”

“Impossible!” cried Madame Virot, with uplifted hands.
“No, ma chére, it is not to be. I entreat you say nothing; I
assure you it would be useless. Say nothing to the mother of
what I have said; you will but make her more unhappy.”

‘Madeline put down the kittens, who were mewing for their
mother, and went up-stairs to her own room. She sat long at
the window, no longer wondering at the quiet sadness of her
mother. Suppose it were she, and her mamma were so angry
that she would not speak to her, not come near her. Madeline’s
eyes filled at the very thought. Could she then care for the
merry ta-ra, ta-ra of the drums beneath the window? or should
she smile over a new rose-bud? Surely, no. “What can I
do?” thought Madeline; and she sat soberly thinking till the
last sunbeams struck the towers of Notre Dame and glanced
across the spires of St. Etienne.

The next day Madeline went again to Madame Virot. She
had been busily forming plans to meet her grandmother, and
wanted to know more of her.