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 then with a fervent, though silent prayer for the happiness of de Sevignie, whom she never more expected to hear of, or behold, she quitted the chamber.

Oliver was waiting for her in the hall; he told her he had left the chaise at the opposite side of the river, but that they had only to cross the bridge, which was but a little way above the cottage, to reach it. He offered her his arm, which, weak and trembling, she accepted, and in a few minutes found herself within the carriage.

From their quitting the cottage to their arrival in Paris, nothing happened worth relating; they were three days travelling to it, and entered it when it was almost dark. The dejection of Madeline was not in the least abated; nor could the busy hum of voices, the bustle in the streets, or the rattling of the carriages, for a moment divert her attention from her sorrows.