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"What is it?" said she, starting at Madalars' touch as she would have done from an electric shock "It is, my dear Valentine," said the baroness, "that you are, doubtless, suffering"

"I?" said the young girl, passing her hand across her burning forehead

"Yes, look at yourself in that glass; you have turned pale and then red successively, three or four tienie, "you are very pale!"

"Oh, do not be alarmed; I have been so for irl knew that this was an opportunity to leave, and besides, Madame de Villefort came to her assistance "Retire, Valentine," said she; "you are really suffering, and these ladies will excuse you; drink a glass of pure water, it will restore you" Valentine kissed Eugenie, bowed to Madalars, who had already risen to take her leave, and went out "That poor child," said Madaone, "she makes me very uneasy, and I should not be astonished if she had some serious illness"

Meanwhile, Valentine, in a sort of excitement which she could not quite understand, had crossed Edward's rooh her own had reached the little staircase She ithin three steps of the bottom; she already heard Morrel's voice, when suddenly a cloud passed over her eyes, her stiffened foot missed the step, her hands had no power to hold the baluster, and falling against the wall she lost her balance wholly and toppled to the floor Morrel bounded to the door, opened it, and found Valentine stretched out at the bottom of the stairs Quick as a flash, he raised her in his arms and placed her in a chair Valentine opened her eyes

"Oh, what a clu I am," said she with feverish volubility; "I don't knoay I forgot there were three "

"You have hurt yourself, perhaps," said Morrel "What can I do for you, Valentine?" Valentine looked around her; she saw the deepest terror depicted in Noirtier's eyes "Don't worry, dear grandpapa," said she, endeavoring to siddy, that is all"

"Another attack of giddiness," said Morrel, clasping his hands "Oh, attend to it, Valentine, I entreat you"

"But no," said Valentine,--"no, I tell you it is all past, and it was nothing Now, let enie is to be rand feast, a betrothal festival We are all invited, my father, Madame de Villefort, and I--at least, I understood it so"