"Yes, mademoiselle," answered the sempstress, with a sad smile; "it is
the name every one gives me. And you see," added the hunchback, unable to
restrain a tear, "it is because of my ridiculous infirmity, to which this
name alludes, that I dread going out to work among strangers, because
there are so many people who laugh at one, without knowing the pain they
occasion. But," continued she, drying her eyes, "I have no choice, and
must make up my mind to it."

Florine, deeply affected, took the speaker's hand, and said to her: "Do
not fear. Misfortunes like yours must inspire compassion, not ridicule.
May I not inquire for you by your real name?"

"It is Magdalen Soliveau; but I repeat, mademoiselle, that you had better
ask for Mother Bunch, as I am hardly known by any other name."

"I will, then, be in the Rue Brise-Miche to-morrow, at twelve o'clock."

"Oh, mademoiselle! How can I ever requite your goodness?"

"Don't speak of it: I only hope my interference may be of use to you. But
of this you must judge for yourself. As for M. Agricola, do not answer
his letter; wait till he is out of prison, and then tell him to keep his
secret till he can see my poor mistress."

"And where is the dear young lady now?"

"I cannot tell you. I do not know where they took her, when she was
attacked with this frenzy. You will expect me to-morrow?"

"Yes--to-morrow," said Mother Bunch.