" Leave us," she said to Annette. The old man sat down, and casting a severe look at Clotilde, said :

"You have always known me very nave and unhappy; but since your flight I have aged twenty years. The day I took you away to a strange land, I did not conceal from myself that I had charge of a soul, that whether you are or are not my daughter, I am answerable for you to God." " Your daughter," cried Clotilde, "yes, of course, the portrait my mother placed in my room at Montevrain is yours. Oh! how you must have suffered since then to have changed so much!" The old man trembled,

" How is it you speak of Montevrain? Have you been there?" "Why, 1 was there only two or three days ago." "What were you doing there?"

" I was with my mother." " Since when ?'' "Why, sir, I have never left her," The old man made a gesture of impa-

tience. "When you left the convent, you made your debut at the Carl Theatre at Vienna. From there you went to Milan, where you left behind you an infamous

reputation." Clotilde clasped her hands in sqppJi-

" Sir," she said to him weeping: " I swear to you it was not I." The visitor got up, "What is your name?" he asked, '" Clotilde de Montevra',n." " Well! my name is M, de Monte'- vrain. Clotilde or Ludka, I have the rights of a father over you, Will you :ome with me ?" " Yes, sir," cried Clotilde with joy. "This very instant?" " This very instant. Only I have just written to my mother to tell her that I have been taken to a house where they call me Ludka, and I have given her the Rue du Colysee as my address. I must write to her." " You shall write to her. Come."

" Come!" And she took the old man's arm with an air of satisfaction that seemed to sur-

prise him. On the threshold Clotilde stopped sud denly, her eyes filling with tears. "Sir!" she said with a trembling voice.
