"Never," replied Mlle. Lucienne. "All my efforts to reach her haveproved fruitless. She does not live in Paris now. I have writtento her: my letters have remained without answer. Did she ever getthem? I think not. Something tells me that she has not forgottenme."She remained silent for a few moments, as if collecting herselfbefore resuming the thread of her narrative. And then,"It was thus brutally," she resumed, "that I was sent off. Itwould have been useless to beg, I knew; and, moreover, I have neverknown how to beg. I piled up hurriedly in two trunks and in somebandboxes all I had in the world, - all I had received from thegenerosity of my poor mistress; and, before the stated hour, I wasready. The cook and the chambermaid had already gone. The man whowas treating me so cruelly was waiting for me. He helped me carryout my boxes and trunks, after which he locked the door, put thekey in his pocket; and, as the American omnibus was passing, hebeckoned to it to stop. And then, before entering it,Good luck, my pretty girl !' he said with a laugh.
"This was in the month of January, 1866. I was just thirteen. Ihave had since more terrible trials, and I have found myself in muchmore desperate situations: but I do not remember ever feeling suchintense discouragement as I did that day, when I found myself aloneupon that road, not knowing which way to go. I sat down on one ofmy trunks. The weather was cold and gloomy: there were few personson the road. They looked at me, doubtless wondering what I was doingthere. I wept. I had a vague feeling that the well-meant kindnessof my poor benefactress, in bestowing upon me the blessings ofeducation, would in reality prove a serious impediment in thelife-struggle which I was about to begin again. I thought of whatI suffered with the laundress; and, at the idea of the tortureswhich the future still held in store for me, I desired death. TheSeine was near: why not put an end at once to the miserableexistence which I foresaw?
"Such were my reflections, when a woman from Rueil, avegetable-vender, whom I knew by sight, happened to pass, pushingher hand-cart before her over the muddy pavement. She stopped whenshe saw me; and, in the softest voice she could command.
"'What are you doing there, my darling?' she asked.
Tips, opportunities to make money：Online making money routine book"In a few words I explained to her my situation. She seemed moresurprised than moved.
"'Such is life,' she remarked, -' sometimes up, sometimes down.'
"And, stepping up nearer,"'What do you expect to do now?' she interrogated in a tone of voiceso different from that in which she had spoken at first, that I feltmore keenly the horror of my altered situation.
Tips, opportunities to make money：Is online registration to make money reliable?"'I have no idea,' I replied.
"After thinking for a moment,"'You can't stay there,' she resumed: 'the gendarmes would arrestyou. Come with me. We will talk things over at the house; andI'll give you my advice.'
"I was so completely crushed, that I had neither strength nor will.
Besides, what was the use of thinking? Had I any choice ofresolutions? Finally, the woman's offer seemed to me a last favorof destiny.
"'I shall do as you say, madame,' I replied:
Tips, opportunities to make money：Can you make money on the online video to make money?"She proceeded at once to load up my little baggage on her cart.
We started; and soon we arrived 'home.'