"I was journeying with a friend yesterday," she replied, "when the
snow-storm overtook us. Luckily we met a man whose home lay in our road.
He was very good, and took us there and gave us supper and beds."

The stranger laughed.

"A good Samaritan, indeed! And your friend? Where is he now? Did he find
his hosts so hospitable that he was unable to tear himself away?"

"No," said Babette, gently, "he started early; before I came down he was
far on his road. They were very good to me, and gave me coffee before I
left. I am a poor woman, and could do but little to repay them. The two
francs I gave them were almost my last."

This speech, uttered in such a soft, even voice--for Babette had
schooled herself well by now--seemed to satisfy her companion, and they
walked on side by side in silence for what seemed to the poor girl the
longest hour she had ever passed.

At last, in the far distance there rose the spires and roofs of
Brussels. The chiming of church bells came gaily towards them through
the frosty air, and Babette knew that her terrible journey was well-nigh
ended. At the entrance of the town the stranger stopped.

[Illustration: "GOOD-BYE."]

"Good-bye," she said, curtly; "I am late for the market, and must sell
my eggs quickly or shall not get my price."

[Illustration: "SHE SANK DOWN IN A HEAVY, DEATH-LIKE SWOON."]