CHAPTER XX.

FLEUR-DE-MARIE.


During the scene which we have just described, Claire, Still in her
fainting fit, was delivered to the tender care and attentions of Clemence
and the sisters; one of the latter sustained her drooping head, while Lady
d'Harville, leaning over the bed, wiped away with her handkerchief the cold
sweat from the brow of the patient. Profoundly affected, Saint Remy
contemplated this touching picture, when a sudden thought struck him, and
he drew near Clemence, and said in a low tone: "And the mother of this
unfortunate, madame?"

The marchioness turned toward Saint Remy, and answered, with sadness, "She
has no longer a mother, my lord."

"Dead!"

"I only learned last night, on my return, the address of Madame de Fermont,
and her alarming situation. At one o'clock in the morning I was with her,
accompanied by my physician. Oh! sir, what a picture! poverty in all its
horrors--and no hope of saving the expiring mother!"

"Oh! how frightful must have been her agony, if the thought of her daughter
was present!"

"Her last words were--my daughter!"

"What a death! she, the tender mother, so devoted. It is terrible!"