She soon appeared; but she entered the room slowly and disconsolately; her eyes were red with crying.

Eliza was evidently in trouble.
"Why, Eliza, my dear child, what is the matter ?" Madame Permon exclaimed, drawing the girl toward her.

"You have been crying.

Have they been scolding you here ?" "No, madame," Eliza replied in a low tone.
"Are you afraid they may?
Have you trouble with your lessons ?" persisted Madame Permon.
With the same dejected air, Eliza answered as before, "No, madame." "But what, then, is the matter, my dear ?" cried Madame Permon; "such red eyes mean much crying." Eliza was silent.
"Come, Eliza!" Napoleon demanded with an elder brother's authority; "speak! answer Madame here What is the matter ?" But even to her brother, Eliza made no reply.
[Illustration: _"'Come, Eliza! What is the matter ?' demanded Napoleon."_] Then Madame Permon, as tenderly as if she had been the girl's mother, led her aside; and finding a remote seat in a corner, she drew the child into her lap.
"Eliza," she said with gracious kindliness, "I must know why you are in sorrow.

Think of me as your mother, dear; as one who must act in her place until you return to her.