"
Madame Leon, who was standing near Mademoiselle Marguerite in the
reception-room, seemed greatly amused. "This is a strange
household," said she. "A fine beginning, upon my word."
But the worthy housekeeper was the last person on earth to whom
Mademoiselle Marguerite wished to reveal her thoughts. "Hush,
Leon," she replied. "We are the cause of all this disturbance,
and I am very sorry for it."
The retort that rose to the housekeeper's lips was checked by the
return of Madame de Fondege, followed by a servant-girl with a
turn-up nose, a pert manner, and who carried a lighted candle in
her hand.
"How can I apologize, madame," began Mademoiselle Marguerite, "for
all the trouble I am giving you?"
"Ah! my dear child, I've never been so happy. Come, come, and see
your room." And while they crossed several scantily-furnished
apartments, Madame de Fondege continued: "It is I who ought to
apologize to you. I fear you will pine for the splendors of the
Hotel de Chalusse. We are not millionaires like your poor father.
We have only a modest competence, no more. But here we are!"
The maid had opened a door, and Mademoiselle Marguerite entered a
good-sized room lighted by two windows, hung with soiled wall
paper, and adorned with chintz curtains, from which the sun had
extracted most of the coloring. Everything was in disorder here,
and in fact, the whole room was extremely dirty.
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