CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Joseph Whitmore Barry 
 dramatic library 
 
 THE GUT OF 
 TWO FRIENDS 
 
 OF Cornell University 
 
 1934 
 
DATE DUt 
 
 Cornell University Library 
 PQ 2378.03V9 1888 
 
 Will. 
 
 3 1924 027 367 501 
 
-i^' 
 
 ?i- 
 
VIZETMLLyS ONE-VOLUME NOVELS. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 WILL. 
 
 GEORGES OHNET. 
 
GEORGES OHNET'S WORKS. 
 
 PRICE 2s. erf, EACH, 
 FIFTH EDITION. 
 THE IRONMASTEB. From the 146th French Edition. 
 " This work, the greatest literary success in any language of recent 
 times, has already yielded its author upwards of;£i2,cco." 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 PRINCE SEBGE PANINE. From the iioth French Edition. 
 " This excellent version is sure to meet with large success on our side 
 of the Channel." — London Figaro. 
 
 PRICE 3s. erf. EACH. 
 
 CLOUD AND SUNSHINE. (Nolr et Rose.) Translated from the 
 60th French Edition, by Mrs Helen Stott. 
 
 " These two little love stones are very poetically written, and excellently 
 well translated." — Whitehall Review. 
 
 THIRD EDITION. 
 COUNTESS SARAH. From the 118th French Edition. 
 "The book contains some very powerful situations and first-rate character 
 studies." — Whitehall Review. 
 
 In large crown 800, beautifully printed on toned paper, price 5s., or 
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 An Illustrated Edition of M. Ohnet's Celebrated Novel, 
 THE IRONMASTER ; or, Love and Pride. Containing 42 Full- 
 Page Engravings by French Artists, Printed Separate from the Text. 
 
ViZE TELLY'S OnE-VoLUME NOVELS. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 WILL. 
 
 GEOEGES OHNET, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE IR0NSIA8TEI! ; " "CODNTESS SARAH; " " PRIHCE SEROE PASINE," ETC. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 VIZETELLY &- CO., i6 HENRIETTA STREET, 
 COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1888. 
 
<? 
 
 V'p i.':ir 
 
 4^^^^; 
 
 I , I H 11 M .J 
 
WILL. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 It was half-past seven in the evening, and darkness was 
 slowly creeping over the sky still glowing with the flush 
 of the setting sun. Along the boulevards flowed a tide 
 of busy men, which formed now and again into great eddies 
 when for an instant its course was stopped by the sale of 
 papers before some kiosk. The tables outside the caf6s 
 were crowded, while in and out between the chairs passed 
 the itinerant vendors of walking-sticks and canes, with the 
 horn or steel handles of their wares protruding from the 
 large green serge cases they carried strapped across their 
 shoulders ; women lounged by, obviously intending to con- 
 tinue their promenade until they had received, more or 
 less promptly, an invitation to dinner in one of the neigh- 
 bouring restaurants ; and the three-horse omnibuses care- 
 fully threaded their way along the road amidst the lines 
 of cabs which were being continually stopped at the corners 
 of the larger thoroughfares to allow the throng of foot- 
 passengers to cross over, and the roUing of the wheels, the 
 even trot of the horses, the street-sellers' cries, the murmur 
 of the crowd, all united to form a sound of happiness, for the 
 great town after the work and noise and turmoil of the day 
 
6 WILL. 
 
 was now about to enter the calm and silence and rest of the 
 night. 
 
 Avoiding the groups and elbowing the passers-by with 
 that dexterity and smiling audacity peculiar to Parisians, 
 two young men, dressed in the height of fashion, were making 
 their way in the opposite direction to the stream which was 
 flowing towards the Chauss6e d'Antin. They seemed to be 
 seeking some one in the crowd, and when they reached the 
 Passage Jouffroy they stood for a moment, hesitating. 
 
 " I can't see her any longer," said the elder of the two. 
 
 " Oh, well, don't let's stand here," returned his com- 
 panion, and they continued their walk. 
 
 " Besides," resumed the second .speaker, " I don't know 
 of anything more stupid or more useless than following 
 a woman in the street. Either she's no good, and then 
 there's nothing interesting in the business, or else she's 
 thoroughly respectable, and then the affair can't possibly 
 lead to anything, so that any way it's only time and 
 trouble wasted." 
 
 " My dear fellow, I must remind you that in the present 
 case we were wasting neither time nor trouble, since the 
 charming individual who has occupied our attention for 
 the last five minutes was taking us our own way. It's 
 always a pleasant sight to see a Frenchwoman walking 
 along, and this one had the proud elastic step of a thorough- 
 bred." 
 
 " Upon my word, you talk as if she were one of your 
 racing mares." 
 
 " Well, it's no insult either to the woman, or to ah ! 
 
 there she is ! " 
 
 Delayed for a moment by the difficult crossing at the 
 
Will. 7 
 
 Faubourg Montmartre, the unconscious object of the two 
 men's attention was now quickly walking up the boulevard 
 towards the Faubourg Poissoni^re. Here the pavement 
 was not so crowded, and the two friends were able to 
 draw nearer and inspect at their ease the fair unknown. 
 Her dress was more than simple; a short, close-fitting 
 cloth jacket and a brown skirt perfectly untrimmed, but 
 tastefully draped ; on her chestnut hair a black straw 
 hat with neither strings, feathers, nor flowers, while a 
 thick veil covered her face, making it impossible to see 
 whether she was pretty or not. Her dress betokened a 
 very humble position in life ; she might have been a 
 milliner's assistant, a maid in some tradesman's family, 
 or perhaps a poor music-mistress returning from her 
 daily work, but her walk had a certain grace and elegance 
 calculated to inspire doubts as to the tale her costume 
 revealed, and she looked more like some lady of high 
 degree dressed in borrowed clothes. She was walking 
 quickly, neither loitering nor looking in the shops, and her 
 firm footsteps rang out clear and quick on the asphalte. 
 
 The two friends were now walking even with her, 
 glancing now and again at her from the corners of 
 their eyes, without daring to let her see that they 
 were paying any attention to her, and restrained by a 
 sudden sense of respect as if they felt she was a young 
 and innocent girl. They were unable to distinguish her 
 features, but her eyes looked dark and soft through the 
 tulle veil which fell to the serious, almost sad-looking 
 mouth, and the only part of the face which was visible 
 and well defined was a smooth, white chin, firm to 
 severity and somewhat haughty. In fine the girl might 
 
8 WILL. 
 
 turn out to be ugly, but anyone would have sworn that 
 she must be pretty. 
 
 " I say," said the younger of the two men, " if she goes 
 on towards the Porte Saint-Denis, mind we don't go 
 after her. I don't want to follow in her wake as far 
 as the Bastille.'' 
 
 They had reached the corner of the Faubourg Poissonifere, 
 where the girl made an almost imperceptible pause before 
 the gutter, which was rather wide just there ; then, raising 
 her skirt a little, she sprang over lightly and gracefully, 
 giving the two friends a glimpse of an exquisitely turned 
 ankle as she did so, and once on the opposite pavement she 
 began to walk quickly down the Faubourg Poissonifere. 
 
 " Why, she is going to your grandmother's house," said 
 the elder man, laughing. 
 
 " Unless she is going to the Conservatoire.'' 
 
 " No, she wouldn't have crossed over." 
 
 A few quick steps brought them to the girl's side. Then 
 a kind of ihagnetic sympathy sprang up between them ; she 
 turned her tranquil eyes towards the two men, noticed their 
 look of interest, guessed their curiosity, and her mouth became 
 set and hard. She started and seemed to draw herself to- 
 gether as though anuoyed but not frightened, then hasten- 
 ing her steps, she distanced her pursuers and suddenly turned 
 into the gateway of a large house. The two friends came 
 up almost as soon as she did, and at the gate they stopped 
 abruptly, then looked at each other and began to laugh. 
 
 " Well ! I told you so. She is going to your grand- 
 mother's." 
 
 " She has gone into the doorkeeper's room. Let's wait a 
 minute, she'll be out again directly." 
 
WILL. 9 
 
 At that very moment she reappeared, holding in her hand 
 a key — of her room no doubt — and a parcel wrapped in 
 some gray material. As she saw the two men standing by 
 the door, apparently watching her, she could not repress a 
 movement of vexation, then averting her head, as though 
 to show her displeasure, she went up a little staircase on the 
 right of the doorkeeper's lodge and disappeared. 
 
 " She evidently lives in the house," said the younger 
 man, " and yet it is the first time I have met her. Up in the 
 attics there are some very small rooms, and no doubt she's 
 some work-girl. Any way the chase is ended, for I don't 
 suppose you want to follow her up five flights of stairs to 
 have her door shut in your face at the end of your journey ; 
 so let's go to dinner.'' 
 
 "But at least ask the doorkeeper what her name is." 
 
 "Oh, I will do that for you," and the young man opened 
 the door of the lodge, where a white-headed old man was 
 sitting in a large leather arm-chair reading the evening 
 paper. His face lighted up with a broad smile as he 
 recognised his visitor, and he at once rose to his feet, at the 
 same time taking off his cap. 
 
 " Pere Anselme, who is that girl who has just come out 
 of your room ? " 
 
 "Mademoiselle H61ene, one of the fifth-floor lodgers, 
 Monsieur Louis ; a brave, good, and quiet girl. She works 
 at some millinery shop all day, and then employs herself in 
 the evening by making lace, sitting at it sometimes till 
 midnight. My wife keeps her room tidy for her, and we 
 call her Mademoiselle H61fene, though her surname is 
 Graville. She has lived h-ere for the last eighteen months, 
 but she is so quiet people don't notice her, and we only 
 
10 WILL. 
 
 see her twice a day, — in the morning when she goes to the 
 shop, and then when she comes back in the evening." 
 
 "Thanks, P^re Anselme," said the young man, seeing 
 that the doorkeeper was preparing to give him a complete 
 biography of the fifth-floor lodger. And with a friendly 
 nod to the old servant he rejoined his companion. 
 
 " Well, she is called H61^ne Graville, and works at a 
 milliner's. She is quiet, orderly, and highly edifies the door- 
 keeper by her diligence, so if you feel inclined to marry her — " 
 
 " Oh, go to the deuce ! " 
 
 "Then let's go to dinner. It is half-past seven and we 
 shall be keeping my grandmother waiting, and she doesn't 
 like that," and they turned towards the steps of a mansion 
 at the other end of the courtyard. 
 
 Facing on the one side the Faubourg Poissoni^re and on 
 the other an immense garden which reaches nearly to the 
 Eue d'Hauteville, the H6tel H^rault-Gandon was built 
 during the reiga of Louis XV by La Grimoni^re the 
 financier, who used it as his country house. A little 
 river, of which there is no longer any trace, ran through 
 the park, feeding on its way some marble basins which 
 stood on the present site of some of the houses in the Eue 
 d'Enghien. After the Coup d'Etat of 1852 the house was 
 bought by H6rault-Gandon, the large manufacturer whose 
 metal workshops are the most important in Saint-Denis, 
 and has been for the last thirty years the family residence, 
 its present occupants being Madame H6rault and her 
 grandson Louis, the only heir to both name and fortune. 
 
 Ascending the flight of steps, Louis and his friend entered 
 a large, paved hall, the door of which was opened to them 
 by a footman in black livery. 
 
WILL. 11 
 
 " Are we late ? " asked the young man, taking some 
 letters and papers from a silver salver. 
 
 " Madame and Mademoiselle LerebouUey have been at 
 dinner about a quarter of a hour." 
 
 " Oh, if Emilie is here it's all right," said Louis, turning 
 to his friend. 
 
 They went up the large flight of stone stairs covered 
 by a thick, soft carpet to a lofty gallery, at the entrance 
 of which the maitre d'hdtel, grave and solemn as a head- 
 clerk, was sitting at a carved wood table. He rose, took 
 the young men's overcoats and sticks, and led them without 
 a word into the drawing-room, through which they passed 
 between tables laden with costly china, screens carefully 
 placed to ward off draughts from doors and windows 
 and sofas and easy-chairs arranged in pleasing disorder, 
 towards the dining-room. In the large white marble 
 fireplace, with its ornaments of gilded bronze, a fire was 
 burning brightly, but one of the windows was open, 
 and through it entered the fresh smeU of budding leaves 
 and trees. Near a low, softly-cushioned sofa stood a 
 basket lined with embroidered satin, in which a dog 
 with long silvery hair lay sleeping. As he heard the 
 two men's footsteps he opened a sleepy eye, then, re- 
 cognising them as friends, feebly wagged his tail and 
 again fell into his comfortable torpor. From the dining- 
 room came the murmur of voices and the sound of silver 
 and china. Louis opened the door, and letting his friend 
 pass in before him — 
 
 "Will you have us 1 " he asked, gaily. " Or must we 
 go and dine at a restaurant 1 " 
 
 "Ah, here you are at last, you bad boy," cried his 
 
12 WILL. 
 
 grandmother, jumping up. "How do you do, Monsieur 
 de Thauziat? Sit down by Emilie," and clapping her 
 little withered hands together to hasten the servants, 
 
 " Quick, lay two more places," she said. 
 
 Then she took her grandson by the arm, as if to assure 
 herself that he would not go away again, and placed him 
 by her side, her face beaming with affection. She was 
 a very little woman, shrivelled up with age; her hair 
 was white, but her fresh colour and bright eyes gave 
 her every appearance of health. Her dress was black 
 and very simply made and round her shoulders she wore 
 a knitted woollen shawl. Altogether, she looked like 
 a humble tradesman's wife in . this handsome dining- 
 room, decorated by exquisite panels from the brush of 
 Largillifere, and on the domed ceiling of which Coypel 
 had painted a representation of the war between the 
 gods and the Titans. 
 
 " There, Emilie," she said gleefully. " We thought we 
 were going to dine all alone, and now we have a compact 
 little party of four." 
 
 It was to a girl of weakly and delicate appearance, 
 seated at the opposite side of the table, that Madame 
 H6rault addressed herself, whose prominent chin, tight- 
 ened lips and pointed nose would have clearly betokened 
 a malicious and ill-natured disposition, had not a broad 
 and intellectual forehead, crowned by a wealth of fair hair, 
 contradicted by its nobility the forbidding aspect of the 
 lower part of the face. This head, remarkable for its 
 contradictions, was supported by a slender, somewhat ill- 
 proportioned body, to which were attached two long, thin 
 arms, terminating in tiny hands, adorned by some raagni- 
 
WILL. 13 
 
 ficent rings. As to Emilie's dress, it was extremely elegant, 
 but worn with none of that grace which characterises the 
 woman whose desire it is to please. She seemed to have 
 given up every pretension to beauty, and, aware of her want 
 of personal charms, to have become resigned to being nothing 
 but a friend of the opposite sex. Most would have thought 
 her thirty years of age but she was not yet twenty-five. 
 
 The only daughter of S^bastien Lereboulley, senator, 
 ex-minister, and one of Europe's greatest financiers, she 
 had lost her mother when quite a child, and, brought 
 up by an English governess, had fallen into habits of 
 independence which her father's affection had served to 
 encourage, for, absorbed by the cares of his enormous 
 financial transactions, occupied by politics, and carried away 
 by a taste for affairs of a gallant nature— a taste which even 
 his ripe age had not tempered — Lereboulley had allowed 
 Emilie, whom he idolised, to live as she chose, surrounded 
 by artists and sharing their love of the arts and search for 
 the beautiful. It seemed as if this girl, formed by nature 
 in so homely a mould, had determined to make up for the 
 ungainliness of her body by the brilliancy of her intellect. 
 She had a talent for sculpture and painting which would 
 have assured the future of any poor artist working for his 
 living, yet exhibited but rarely, not wishing, so she said 
 to compete with those dependent on their profession. Her 
 caustic wit made her feared in society (where her immense 
 fortune always secured her a circle of admirers), but she 
 never attacked the timid, reserving her biting phrases for 
 the scheming and the proud. Her hand had been asked 
 in marriage by the most eligible men of aristocratic and 
 financial circles alike, but she dismissed all her suitors, 
 
U WILL. 
 
 saying that she had too much pride to consent to any but 
 a love-match, and too much sense not to know that such a 
 match was impossible. Still this bitter argument, which 
 betrayed an affectionate nature warped by regrets proudly 
 hidden, had not discouraged the aspirants, and their ranks 
 were being continually swelled by men who hoped that a 
 moment of lassitude, an instant of vexation, would at last 
 open this hand hitherto so firmly closed. 
 
 Of all those who surrounded her, only two could flatter 
 themselves that they were the objects of Mademoiselle 
 LerebouUey's preference, and these chosen ones had just 
 entered the dining-room of the H6tel H^rault. The one, 
 Louis, had been her friend from childhood and was treated 
 by Emilie as if he were indeed her brother j the other, 
 Clement de Thauziat, a more recent acquaintance who had 
 been clever or independent enough not to pose as a would- 
 be lover, had secured the half-teasing, half-tender attention 
 of the clever girl, and he found himself now caressed by 
 affectionate words, now lashed by some scathing sarcasm, 
 for with him Mademoiselle Lereboulley was like a eat, 
 sometimes using her claws, sometimes with paws of velvet, 
 though an observer would have soon perceived that the use 
 of the claws was the more frequent. But at any rate he 
 occupied her attention, and that in itself was a triumph. 
 
 Besides, he was worldly-wise and knew how to defend 
 himself, for, although he still looked quite young, he had 
 reached his fortieth year. He was a dark, handsome man, 
 with black eyes, curled beard, and face like an Arab's, 
 aff'ecting in his dress an extreme quietness which gave him 
 an air of great distinction. He had come to Paris when 
 very young and had boldly entered the ranks of large 
 
WILL. 15 
 
 speculators, disposing of considerable capital, though no one 
 was aware that he possessed any actual fortune. Lereboulley 
 thought a great deal of him ; they had met in gay society, and 
 Thauziat had at once constituted himself the elder man's 
 preceptor and guide, and, thoroughly initiated himself, had 
 pointed out to the financier all the turns and by-ways of the 
 Isle of Pleasures, while the financier, in return, had shown 
 him the road to fortune. 
 
 Lereboulley and Thauziat, therefore, had lived in close 
 intimacy for the last ten years, and each could have related 
 a good many tales about the other, some funny, others 
 terrible — battles of love and battles of money, the former 
 of which had been fought in boudoirs hung with lace, and 
 the latter won on the cold paving-stones of the Stock 
 Exchange. Men did not think they were so near the truth 
 when they said jokingly, " It is the corpses they are 
 answerable for that make Thauziat and Lereboulley such 
 close friends," but they never made such jokes before 
 Thauziat who was one of the best fencers in Paris, and who, 
 with the pistol, would break as many saucers as you chose 
 at thirty paces. In short, he was a splendid type of an 
 adventurer who had somehow wandered into this petty, 
 money-grasping generation, over which he contemptuously 
 ruled by his beauty, his daring and his intellect. Had he 
 lived in the fifteenth instead of the nineteenth century, he 
 would have been one of those superb condottieri, who formed 
 for themselves kingdoms in the territories they had con- 
 quered, and, patrons of architects, sculptors, and artists," 
 built cities of marble, then peopled them with statues and 
 decorated them with paintings which now form the pride 
 of modern galleries. He had the breadth and strength of 
 
1 6 WILL. 
 
 character of a Sforza or a Colonna, but, cramped and 
 fettered by a narrow civilization, his eagle wings had no 
 room to expand, though still there was an air of such bold- 
 ness and strength about him that at the first glance a clear- 
 sighted eye would have singled him out from his companions 
 as the most remarkable man of the group. 
 
 He loved to possess the best of everything, and never 
 did a man spend money with so refined a dilettantism. 
 He had had built for himself in the Avenue d'Antin an hdtel 
 which was the most charming bachelor's abode in Paris, 
 and whose walls he had hung with pictures which, apart 
 from their artistic value, were all of celebrated origin 
 and had all passed through the hands of the great amateurs 
 of art. No house was better kept up than his; his 
 horses carried oflf prize after prize at the Concours Hippique, 
 while on the race-course his colours were generally first 
 past the winning-post. His good luck had merited for 
 him a great deal of bitter hatred, over which he triumphed, 
 and as much admiration, which he turned to his advantage. 
 In this century, over which the commonplace reigns, he 
 stood out because of his originality, and, through that alone, 
 formed one of the twelve or fifteen noticeable men in 
 Paris. The mere fact of his having bestowed his friendship 
 on Louis H^rault had been suflScient to place the latter 
 above the common level, and, in a day, Clement's com- 
 panion became someone of importance by simply reflecting 
 the rays of the greater star. 
 
 They had become acquainted at Vienna under some- 
 what extraordinary circumstance. Thauziat, who was on 
 his way back from Carlsbad, had accepted an invitation to 
 supper at the house of Carlotta Brunnen, one of Europe's 
 
WILL. 17 
 
 most celebrated dancers, whither Louis H6rault, also merely 
 passing through the town on his way to Moravia for 
 grouse-shooting, was taken by Lord Eddisley, a club 
 friend of his, and Thauziat and he found themselves the 
 only Frenchmen in a party composed almost entirely of 
 Germans. Just then was a time of great anxiety for 
 France. War seemed on the point of breaking out and 
 the unexpected interference of the Czar was alone restrain- 
 ing the army of invaders ready to spread themselves 
 beyond the Vosges. CMment de Thauziat, accustomed 
 to shine • in whatever society he happened to be, did not 
 seem to notice the predominance of the German element 
 and displayed aU the graces of his wit as though he had 
 been surrounded by friends. The feminine portion of the 
 reunion, for women are generally cosmopolitan when a 
 handsome man is in question, had at once gone over to his 
 side, and the favour with which he was only too apparently 
 regarded contributed in no small degree to the ill-temper 
 of the other guests. But gradually his verve dissipated 
 the clouds and carried all before it; at two o'clock the 
 supper, which had been commenced at midnight, was at 
 the highest point of gaiety, and the mistress of the house 
 chose this moment to drink the health of him who had 
 become master of the revels. If Carlotta had simply 
 filled her glass in honour of Thauziat, no doubt every one 
 present would have followed the pretty dancer's example 
 without the slightest hesitation; but she was imprudent 
 enough to wish to include Louis H^rault in her token of 
 regard, and, uniting the two compatriots in the same toast, 
 she cried, " Gentlemen, let us drink to our French friends ! " 
 There happened to be present two German military 
 B 
 
18 WILL. 
 
 attaches, one a high-born Bavarian baron, six feet high, 
 with hair as yellow as his country's beer, the other a 
 little thick-set Prussian captain, who still looked surly 
 and peevish, although he was nearly drunk. In the midst 
 of the acclamations of all the other guests there came a 
 loud crash — both officers' glasses had just fallen on the 
 table smashed to atoms. There was a moment of em- 
 barrassed silence, then Clement said in his calm tones — 
 
 "These gentlemen are no longer thirsty, perhaps a 
 little air would do them good." 
 
 He had risen to his feet, as had also the two Germans. 
 Signing Louis to follow him — 
 
 "Go on with your supper," he said, with a smile, "we 
 will rejoin you in a minute." 
 
 Turning towards a window which had been opened on 
 account of the heat, he passed out on to the balcony, at the 
 foot of which flowed a little loop of the Danube which was 
 clearly reflecting the stars on this splendid summer night, 
 lighted a cigarette and began to talk with all the sang-froid 
 imaginable to the Bavarian Goliath. From the room, they 
 could see him smile as his companion, looking very red, 
 shook his head in token of refusal. Louis, on his side, 
 had taken the little captain in hand. What demands and 
 what answers were exchanged during this conversation, no 
 one knew, but, at the end of a few seconds, two cries were 
 heard and only the two Frenchmen could still be seen on 
 the balcony. Then they re-entered the dining-room, and 
 Thauziat said very calmly — - 
 
 " There was a mistake. The gentlemen were still thirsty ; 
 they are now drinking.'' 
 
 Some of the men rushed out and found the baron and 
 
WILL. 19 
 
 the captain at the foot of the balcony struggling in two 
 feet of mud. 
 
 The next morning, in a little wood near Schoenbrun, the 
 Bavarian, who had decided to fight with sabres, received 
 from Thauziat, who was proficient in every mode of fencing, 
 a thrust which would have called forth the admiration of 
 every fencing-master in the German universities. As for 
 Louis, he left a ball in the captain's thigh, and from that 
 day Thauziat and Herault were inseparable. 
 
 It was a question if this frendship was good for Louis, 
 whose weakness of character demanded a wiser mentor 
 than this formidable man of the world, but one cannot 
 change one's fate, and it was written that, in the future, 
 the lives of Clfement and Louis should mingle in a tragic 
 fashion. 
 
 Eor the time being, however, they were both sitting very 
 peacefully in the handsome dining-room of the H6tel 
 H6rault, using their good appetites to try and catch up 
 the two ladies who had half-finished their dinner, and who 
 were now looking at their two unhoped-for guests with 
 frank delight. 
 
 "And now, you naughty boy," said Madame Herault, 
 " wiU you have the kindness to tell me what you have been 
 doing for the last seven days ? For it's a week now since 
 I last saw you." 
 
 " I have been to Ascot, grandmother, with C16ment. We 
 went to watch the running of a filly he thinks a great deal 
 of — a daughter of Baronnette by Turlupin." 
 
 "And when did you return ? " 
 
 " To-day." 
 
 " Your train must have been very late, since you were 
 
20 WILL. 
 
 not able to be in time for dinner," said his grandmother, 
 with a smile. 
 
 "Oh, we reached Paris this morning, but I went to 
 Saint-Denis to see how things were going on. Then I 
 dressed at the club, and we should have been here quite 
 by seven o'clock, if, on the way, Thauziat had not taken it 
 into his head to follow a little milliner's girl he liked the 
 look of." 
 
 " Ah, ah. Monsieur Clement ! " exclaimed Mademoiselle 
 LerebouUey, while her grey eyes sparkled, " Now we are 
 going to hear all about your misdoings. So you follow 
 girls- in -the street now, my fine fellow? Why, what 
 pleasures can you be reserving for your old age ? " 
 
 Thauziat shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Don't listen to the calumnies of that young rogue — 
 he simply wants to blacken me in your eyes. And since 
 he dares to attack me, I will tell tales of him. We are 
 late because he was thoroughly determined to call' on Lady 
 Olifaunt before coming here." 
 
 " And did you see the beautiful Diana 1 " asked 
 Mademoiselle LerebouUey, with an ironic smile. 
 
 " No, she was still asleep." 
 
 "And it was seven o'clock in the evening? Oh, yes, 
 that's her way ; she is going to a ball to-night, and wants 
 to look fresh, -so she stays in bed all day. She is as 
 careful of her beauty as if it were some valuable jewel; 
 what a pity she cannot lock it up in a casket with her 
 diamonds, and only bring it out the hours she wishes to 
 triumph ! But each year, each day, each hour, leaves some 
 mark on her precious person, and so, as she cannot arrest 
 the flight of time, Diana limits the number of hours during 
 
WILL. 21 
 
 which she is exposed to the fatigue which might produce 
 a wrinkle. Her business is to look after her beauty ; she 
 has a head-clerk already — her husband, the Honourable 
 Sir James — and one of these days she will have a regular 
 office, simply for information." 
 
 " Emilie ! " exclaimed Louis, reproachfully. " You never 
 lose an opportunity of saying something ill-natured about 
 Lady Olifaunt." 
 
 "But my father is so good-natured to her! And I 
 suppose she does not think she can have the good-will of 
 all the family 1 " 
 
 This answer caused a few moments embarrassment, 
 during which the harsh laugh with which Emilie empha- 
 sized her allusion was alone heard. Then Louis said, to 
 change the conversation, 
 
 " I warn you, grandmother, that the humble beauty 
 Thauziat so hotly pursued is one of your tenants; she 
 lives in the wing overlooking the Faubourg." 
 
 " Who told you so 1 " 
 
 " The doorkeeper." 
 
 Madame H^rault raised her little wrinkled hands as 
 high as her flowered cap. 
 
 " Well, that's nice ! " she said somewhat sharply. " Now 
 mind, Thauziat, I forbid you to make any scandal in my 
 house ; the girl may be perfectly good." 
 
 " Anselme bears witness to that, and besides she is too 
 simply dressed to be anything but honest. When she is 
 under Clement's protection she will put aside her little 
 woollen dresses, and we shall see a brougham at her door, 
 to prevent other members of the Thauziat species following 
 her in the street." 
 
22 WILL. 
 
 "And what is the name of this fortunate lodger who 
 attracts the attention of our critic of elegance 1 " asked 
 Mademoiselle Lereboulley. "You doubtless found out 
 while you were engaged with the doorkeeper 1 " 
 
 " Her christian name is Helfene, as was that of the 
 woman who once made such trouble in Greece and Asia," 
 replied Louis gaily ; " and her surname, GravUle." 
 
 "Graville!" interrupted old Madame Hdrault. "That 
 was the name of the village where I was born, and there 
 was a family De Graville who lived in the ch&teau. But the 
 heir was a boy, and I never knew of a girl called H61fene." 
 
 "If you had known her, grandmother,. she would have 
 been over sixty by now, and the person in question is quite 
 young." 
 
 "Ah, yes," said Madame H6rault, laughing; "but old 
 people speak of the past as if it were yesterday. Life 
 passes so quickly that one thinks one is still what one has 
 been, and when people say, ' Oh, but that was half-a- 
 century ago,' it always takes one by surprise. Half-a- 
 century ago ! just when I married your grandfather. 
 Madame de Graville had a great deal to do with that, and 
 I was very much indebted to her. I ought not to have 
 lost sight of her, but H6rault wanted to come to Paris, and 
 after he had gone into business I forgot the village, the 
 chSiteau, and the lady who had been so good to me. That 
 is the way with so many people— they seem ungrateful, 
 when they have only been very busy, but if this girl should 
 belong to the family of which I am speaking, we shall have 
 to acquit ourselves towards her of the debt." 
 
 "There will not be much difficulty about that," said 
 Louis, "for she seems poor. And then C16ment will have 
 
WILL. 23 
 
 played the part of Providence, by putting us on the track 
 of a descendant of the Gravilles you knew, only you must 
 remember in Normandy there are as many Gravilles as 
 there are apple-trees almost, it is a very common name." 
 
 " Well, I will find out." 
 
 They had finished dinner, and the drawing-room door 
 had been opened. Old Madame H6rault rose from the 
 table, and passing briskly into the other room without 
 taking the arm of either Clement or her grandson, left 
 Emilie to follow with the two young men. Coffee was 
 placed on a small table. 
 
 " Do the honours to the two gentlemen, my dear," said 
 the old lady to Emilie, " and then, if they will favour us 
 with their society, allow them to smoke their horrid 
 cigarettes." 
 
 " Emilie would be very sorry if we did not do so," said 
 Louis, " for then she could not smoke herself." 
 
 " That is a graceful way of once more drawing attention 
 to my bad bringing-up, I suppose ? " interrupted Mademoi- 
 selle Lereboulley. Then, with a certain bitter melancholy, 
 she. continued : 
 
 "Do once for all make up your mind to treat me as 
 some one apart. There is nothing of the woman about me, 
 so I wish to enfranchise myself as much as possible from 
 the subjection imposed upon my sex, and I mean to be as 
 independent in my ways as I choose. I am deprived of 
 every little feminine pleasure, I cannot give my mind to 
 dressing and adorning myself, it would be grotesque with 
 my appearance. No one mak^s love to me — oh, I mean 
 sincerely and for myself, for my dowry has many admirers, 
 but when some brave man, who has made up his miad to 
 
24 WILT.. 
 
 marry me in spite of my plainness, says to me with a sigh, 
 'Ah, mademoiselle, how charming you are!' I transpose 
 the music of his romance, and I hear, ' Ah, Mademoiselle, 
 how rich you are ! ' Then I send the lover and his amorous 
 speculation to the right ahouts, and I seek compensation 
 for my mental sorrows in the pleasures of liberty. I go 
 out when I please, and I go where I like, I drive my horses 
 myself, I read everything, and I discuss everything, I smoke 
 with my friends, and I am almost as bad as you are 
 yourself, my little Louis, bad morals excepted, of course, 
 and it is no credit to me, either." 
 
 She turned a pirouette, which displayed all her puny 
 deformity, then, with a burst of laughter, drew from her 
 pocket a very pretty silver case from which she took a 
 Eussian cigarette, and, having lighted it, blew the smoke 
 into her companion's face. 
 
 " You have omitted to mention one of your faults, even 
 now. Mademoiselle Lereboull ey," said Thauziat, quietly. 
 
 " And which one is that 1 " 
 
 " You boast and brag of being bad a great deal more than 
 others do of being good, and with much less truth. With 
 all your pretensions to wickedness, you are very good- 
 natured." 
 
 " It is not true ! " exclaimed Emilie, violently. " Besides, 
 why do you think I am ? I scorn and hate humanity, which, 
 to me, seems stupid, wicked and cowardly," 
 
 " You are not far wrong, but you are too intelligent not to 
 make exceptions to that rule. And it is a proof of what I 
 say, that we found you here, keeping Madame Herault 
 company while her grandson was away." 
 
 The old lady clapped her little withered hands together. 
 
WILL. 25 
 
 " Well said, Monsieur de Thauziat ! " she cried gleefully. 
 " She was caught in the very act ; but so are you too, for with 
 all your vaunted egoism, you came to dine with a tiresome 
 old woman like me, instead of going to your club, where 
 you would have found all your friends, and now you are 
 staying the evening to enliven her." 
 
 Thauziat smiled, and shook his handsome dark head. 
 
 " No, Madame H^rault, don't credit me with any self- 
 abnegation. I came to dine with you because you have a 
 good cook, and I am staying to play a game of b^sique with 
 you, because you play well, that is all." 
 
 The old lady's eyes sparkled, and turning to her grand- 
 son — 
 
 " Then, Louis, give us the card-table ! " 
 
 " Well, grandmother, we can stay till eleven o'clock,'' said 
 Louis, " so try and beat Thauziat." 
 
 " Make yourself easy on that point ; and you, Clement, 
 behave yourself ! " 
 
 They commenced to play, and Emilie and Louis seated 
 themselves in a corner of the room. For a moment they 
 were silent, she abstractedly smoking, he following a train 
 of thought, which carried him far away from this quiet 
 house which even the noise of the city did not reach across 
 the deserted courtyards and gardens. He could see the 
 smiling image of a golden-haired woman, with rosy face 
 from which shone out two eyes of heavenly blue. Gracefully 
 she swayed to and fro, light as an apparition or the white 
 phantom of a dream, with a provoking, enigmatical smile, 
 as she seemed to say : " Dare to love me ! If you confess 
 to me that you desire me and long for me, who knows 
 what I may answer you 1 Although I appear statuesque 
 
26 WILL. 
 
 and icy, I am glowing with passion, but I show it only to 
 him who adores me. Take me in your arms and you will 
 feel the beating of my heart. Be bold, it is the secret 
 of success ! " Then, suddenly, beside the first, appeared 
 another form, at once threatening and grotesque — that of 
 her husband, the honourable Sir James, as Emilie derisively 
 called him, with his frizzly red hair, his face crimsoned by 
 port-wine and his little, piercing, mocking, black eyes. 
 He was stiff and phlegmatic, affecting irreproachable 
 manners, and always speaking of his integrity, like a man 
 who will not permit the very shadow of a doubt to manifest 
 itself. Towards the beautiful Diana he was paternal, and, 
 though he showered tender epithets upon her, he was 
 plainly little enough of a husband not to discourage his 
 wife's adorers. When there was no smile to give his 
 face an expression of happiness his countenance was of 
 sinister harshness. 
 
 Who and what were this man and woman who had 
 suddenly appeared in Parisian society two years ago, 
 with every appearance of wealth? They occupied a 
 mansion in the Avenue Gabriel, drove about in splendidly 
 appointed carriages, gave dinner-parties every Tuesday, 
 and were " At home " afterwards in the evening. Emilie's 
 father, the senator LerebouUey — a man of about sixty, 
 with a huge body, and hair too intense a black for its 
 colour to be natural — was very intimate in the house. 
 He took flowers and sweetmeats to the beautiful English 
 woman, and called her Diana, and the Oltfaunts had no 
 doubt an account at his bank, for cheques signed 
 " LerebouUey " had several times been seen in the hands 
 of Sir James. 
 
WILL. 27 
 
 Another frequent visitor at the house was Thauziat, and 
 when anyone questioned him about Sir James, he replied 
 that the baronet belonged to a good Yorkshire family, 
 and that his marriage had been one of love, his wife 
 having been the daughter of a Protestant clergyman. 
 He had -known both husband and wife a long while, 
 and it was chiefly owing to him that they had made so 
 many pleasant acquaintances since they had lived in Paris. 
 It was by him that Lereboulley had been presented to 
 Diana. 
 
 Several times Louis had tried to question Clement 
 about his English friends, but the latter had always dis- 
 missed the subject with a haughty nonchalance which made 
 it difficult to insist. However, Louis had thought it a 
 good stroke of diplomacy on his part to confide his growing 
 passion for Lady Olifaunt to Thauziat and Lereboulley; 
 and to his confession Clement had coldly replied, " Well, 
 then, make love to her ; " while the senator had knitted 
 his brows into a heavy frown, and excitedly exclaimed, 
 " Why, my dear fellow, you must be mad ! She's as 
 straight as can be ! " 
 
 So what could he believe? Whom could he trust? 
 Appearances were in favour of the Olifauuts, who led a 
 perfectly open life, were surrounded by friends, and would 
 have drawn no attention to themselves, save for a dash of 
 eccentricity very excusable in foreigners. And yet the 
 Parisian's instincts put him on his guard, and he still 
 preserved an odd suspicion that Diana might in reality 
 be an adventuress flying at high game, and Sir James a 
 chevalier d'industrie living on the fruits of his wife's mis- 
 conduct. 
 
28 WILL. 
 
 Louis heaved a sigh. 
 
 " The heart that sighs does not possess what it desires, 
 said Emilie, throwing away her cigarette. "I bet you I 
 know of whom you are thinking." 
 
 " Well, who is it 1 " asked the young man, blinking his 
 eyes as if he were just awaking. 
 
 " Our dear Diana. Isn't that right 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Then to reward me for my good guess, tell me where 
 you are to meet this evening. For of course you are going 
 to the same house.'' 
 
 " Then you must not tell anyone, for it is a secret. We 
 are going to the masked ball at Count Wor6seflf 's." 
 
 "But there will be nothing but fast women there!" 
 exclaimed Emilie, with an expression of shocked surprise. 
 " Do you mean to say the modest Diana would show 
 herself at such a place 1 " 
 
 " In the first place, there will be only the best known 
 actresses there — " 
 
 " Well 1 What did I say ? " interrupted Mademoiselle 
 LerebouUey. 
 
 " Secondly," continued Louis, " a great many women of 
 the best society will be present simply to satisfy their 
 curiosity- — under a mask, you know nearly everything is 
 permissible. Besides, Lady Olifaunt will be well looked 
 after. Without counting Sir James — " 
 
 " Oh, no, don't let's count him ! " 
 
 " There wUl be your father — " 
 
 " My majestic and senatorial papa ! What is he going 
 to do there? I suppose he will let a lot of women get 
 sundry bank-notes out of him at cards — " 
 
WILL. 29 
 
 " And Thauziat, and, finally, your humble servant. You 
 see that with so many protectors — " 
 
 " Diana will be in great danger." 
 
 " Emilie ! you are not serious ? " 
 
 " And are you yourself ? According to you, this ball is 
 to be a most desirable reunion — a choice mixture of the 
 Faubourg Saint-Germain and the Faubourg Montmartre. 
 In fact, a place where any mother could take her daughter. 
 How charming ! " 
 
 She leant towards her companion, and continued in her 
 most persuasive tones — 
 
 " Then take me, Louis, dear. I am dying to go." 
 
 " You are joking." 
 
 "No, for once I am not." 
 
 " But, my dear girl, you have no card of invitation." 
 
 " That's a good excuse ! Seeing me on your arm, who 
 would dare to make any remark ? You can tell Woreseff 
 that I am La Belle Fatma disguised as a Parisian. You 
 will see no one will know me in a domino, and it would be 
 so amusing ! I should puzzle everyone so, I know so much 
 about most of the people who will be there. Well, is it 
 agreed 1 I sha'n't be the least restraint upon you, you shall 
 be quite free, and as for me — well, if anyone testifies the 
 least want of respect towards me — " 
 
 She drew herself up, then concluded like some schoolboy, 
 
 " He'll be jolly well taken in ! " 
 
 " Very well, then," said Louis, " I'll take you, but on one 
 condition — that you tell me what you know about Lady 
 Olifaunt." 
 
 Emilie's face clouded over and her lips tightened. Then, 
 gravely shaking her head — 
 
30 WILL. 
 
 " Lady Olifaunt 1 What do you think I could tell you 
 about her? You know her, and that she is young, 
 beautiful and rich — " 
 
 For a moment Louis hesitated ; then, with eyes fixed on 
 Mademoiselle Lereboulley — 
 
 " What is there between her and your father 1 " he asked. 
 
 " Ah ! Is that what is troubling you ? " 
 
 " Yes. I have questioned Thauziat and he would give 
 me no reply. It is quite plain that you detest Diana, and 
 that she is frightened of you. Why your hatred, and why 
 her fear ? " 
 
 EmUie's eyes looked still darker beneath her contracted 
 eyebrows, but she answered in a jesting tone, 
 
 "We certainly do not adore one another, and if you 
 want to know all, it is my belief that Diana is a natural 
 child that my father had while he was in England." 
 
 Louis started. 
 
 " You are laughing at me ! He did not know her two 
 years ago." 
 
 " He found her again by chance. Thauziat put him on 
 her track — the workings of Providence are mysterious, you 
 know." 
 
 " Oh ! It is not possible ! " 
 
 "Then what should she be, if not his daughter?" 
 exclaimed Emilie, regaining all her former gaiety. " His 
 mistress 1 You surely did not imagine I was going to tell 
 you I suspected my father of misbehaving himself 1 How 
 about our honourable Sir James if that were so 1 And how 
 about myself, who receive the divine Diana — what should 
 I be, if she were a fast woman ? No, no ! Her conduct is 
 irreproachable, only she is English, and foreigners are 
 
WILL. 31 
 
 eccentric, that is all. And, in conclusion^ let me give you 
 some good advice — don't make love to her. You would 
 only get yourself into trouble with Sir James, and he is a 
 first-rate shot." 
 
 Then as Louis shrugged his shoulders in calm disdain — 
 
 " And, above all, you would displease papa, which would 
 be an infinitely more serious affair." 
 
 "Then he would have some reasons for being dis- 
 pleased 1 " 
 
 " He would have those of which I have told you. 
 Content yourself with "them and think them good, for 
 want of others. Then you will take me this evening 1 " 
 
 " Since you insist. But it will be at your own risk." 
 
 "Naturally. Besides papa will be there, and when 
 I feel bored I will surprise him by making myself known 
 to him." 
 
 " What a pleasure there is in store for him, then ! 
 Where shall I call for you 1 " 
 
 " At the house door, at midnight. Is that arranged 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 At this moment Madame Hdrault rose from the card-table, 
 and, turning to the two young people, said disconsolately — 
 
 " Well, what do you think of this 1 Clement's luck is 
 tremendous, and I have lost two hundred and fifty francs ! " 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " cried Emilie, seating herself in the chair 
 the old lady had just vacated. " You just wait a minute. 
 I will get back your money from him, accompanied by 
 a little of his own also." 
 
 She shuffled the cards, and looking Thauziat in the face — 
 
 " Come, cut," she said, " and don't let us have too many 
 sixties by queens. It will be ostentatious on your part." 
 
32 WILL. 
 
 Clement raised his handsome head and smiled. 
 
 " And you try not to cheat," he said. 
 
 "If I didn't cheat with you, how should I manage to 
 win 1 " 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 And reaching across the table, he took Mademoiselle Lere- 
 bouUey's slender, nervous hand, and dropped a kiss upon 
 the rosy nails. Emilie made not the least resistance. Her 
 nostrils dilated slightly, her eyes shone as though she had 
 experienced a sudden agitation, then she said in her 
 sarcastic voice — 
 
 " You adore that which hurts you 1 That is right." 
 
 And aided by Louis' advice, she commenced the game. 
 
 In her arm-chair by the side of the fire sat old Madame 
 H^rault, drowsily dreaming. The young girl who bore 
 the name of the place where she was born was in her 
 thoughts, and insensibly she began to review her past life. 
 One by one the years of her youth passed before her eyes — 
 years when she had been poor, and yet so happy that the 
 memory of them brought a smile to her lips — and, entranced 
 by the vision which caused her in one moment to live over 
 again the whole of her life, the grandmother gave herself 
 up to its charm and entirely forgot her present sur- 
 roundings. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 On the high-road from Eouen to Dieppe, between Longue- 
 ville and Saint-Aubin, lie the hundred or so white houses, 
 with thatched and tiled roofs, and clustering orchards, which 
 form the little village called Graville, while on the top of a 
 hill, covered with beeches whose dark leaves tremble in the 
 sea-breeze, can be seen the brick turrets of the chateau 
 surmounting the house which is built in the Renaissance 
 style, and adorned by a monumental porch, from which 
 a double flight of steps leads down to a terrace bordered 
 by old lilac-trees and broad flower-beds. 
 
 Near the chiteau gate is a marble tablet with an 
 inscription to commemorate the fact that it was at Graville 
 Henri IV. passed the night after the battle of Arques. 
 It was also at Graville, in a drawing-room on the ground 
 floor, so says tradition, that the victorious king seated 
 himself at a table of Italian marqueterie, ever since care- 
 fully preserved, and wrote the celebrated note : " You can 
 hang yourself, my good Crillon. We were victorious at 
 Arques, and you were not there.'' 
 
 A few hundred yards from the p9,rk walls, on the banks 
 of the river Scie, and hidden by a screen of poplars, stands 
 a factory, with damp, smoke-blackened walls, called Le 
 Glandier. There copper is rolled out ready for the keels 
 of ships, boilers for steamers are constructed, and cylinders 
 cast. Le Glandier is an appendage of the Graville estate. 
 
 c 
 
34 WILL. 
 
 In 1814 Count Bernard resigned the post he had held in 
 the Danish navy all through the time of the Eevolution 
 and the Empire, and then founded a metal workshop to 
 give employment to the brave followers who had shared 
 his exile. In 1826 Monsieur de Graville, well posted up in 
 the discoveries of science and foreseeing the change the 
 employment of steam would cause in ship-building, added 
 the construction of boilers to the rolling-out of copper, and 
 gradually became in a position to furnish the Havre ship- 
 builders with all the machinery they required. 
 
 The foreman of the works was then a tall, broad- 
 shouldered man of thirty, named Herault. H^rault was 
 exceedingly intelligent, but extremely illiterate ; he could 
 not read and had never felt the necessity of learning, but 
 he had taught himself drawing with no aid but his own 
 diligence, his knowledge of machinery showing him the 
 advantage of being a good draughtsman, and he had 
 invented an automatic valve which had brought important 
 orders to his master. Strong and well-built, he was the 
 favourite of all the girls in Graville ; and amongst his 
 conquests he could count that of old G-andon's daughter, to 
 whose inn he went every Sunday, for he never drank in 
 the week, and had the character of being a very steady man. 
 Fifine, as ]\Iademoiselle Jos6phine was familiarly called, fell 
 in love with H6rault, who in return paid her great attention, 
 and they were often to be met in the evening walking 
 together on the Offranville road. 
 
 The result of this amorous intimacy was an accident, at 
 which old Gandon was all the more enraged when he found 
 Herault — in his calm, peasant selfishness — was not in the 
 least disposed to make reparation for his fault. He did not 
 
WILL. 35 
 
 want to shackle himself with a wife he would have to drag 
 with him everywhere like a cumbersome burden. In his 
 ambitious dreams, the foreman had always fancied himself 
 at HWe, and perhaps one day at Paris, both fertile fields 
 where ideas flourish and bear fruit exceedingly, and for ten 
 years he had stinted himself to save up a little capital with 
 which he might commence business, and from workman 
 rise to master in his turn. Therefore he took no notice of 
 Fifine's entreaties, and to avoid her father's anger simply 
 ceased to go to the inn. 
 
 " What a fool that H^rault must be not to marry old 
 Gandon's daughter and the inn too at the same time ! " said 
 all the young men of the village. " A man would be very 
 happy there, and he'd have board and lodging to the end of 
 his days." 
 
 They could not guess their companion's plans ; he aimed 
 too high for their eyesight to reach. 
 
 And so, in his future's interests, H6rault firmly renounced 
 all the pleasures of the present. No more irregular affec- 
 tions, no more Sunday drinking bouts. He shut himself 
 up alone in his room and passed his evenings in drawing 
 — he was on the point of making a new discovery. Still, 
 chance, in which he had placed all his confidence, forced 
 on him the modification of his existence he had so violently 
 refused, and made his marriage with Gandon's daughter his 
 first stepping-stone to fortune. 
 
 Madame de Graville, the wife of Count Bernard and at this 
 time a young woman of twenty-five, had a delicate, weakly 
 son with whom Fifine used to play for hours, when she went 
 to the chateau to do a day's sewing. But, in her despair 
 and shame when she found herself jilted by H^rault and 
 
36 WILL. 
 
 the result of her intimacy with him becoming daily more 
 apparent, the poor girl ceased to work at Madame de 
 Graville's, and the little boy, left with no playfellow, 
 fretted at her absence. The countess made inquiry, found 
 out the truth, and, aware that H^rault worked at the factory, 
 undertook to bring him to a sense of duty. Certainly, 
 Madame de Graville was eloquent, but above all she was 
 rich, and the dowry she offered of three thousand francs 
 made the balance between the foreman's love and ambition so 
 exact, that, the following month, H^rault and Mademoiselle 
 G-andon were married by the mayor of Saint-Aubin. 
 
 At the end of a year, the possessor of six thousand francs, 
 the husband of an active and devoted wife, and the father 
 of a big boy that had been christened Pierre, H6rault left 
 Graville and went to Havre to make practical experiments 
 with a safety-valve he had invented, and which was to 
 vastly improve marine steam-engines. 
 
 The shrewd, hard-working peasant must have received 
 at his birth the mark on the forehead which distinguishes 
 those who are destined to succeed in everything they 
 undertake, for ten years later he had settled at Paris 
 and become the owner of a vast factory at Saint-Denis. 
 
 The revolution of 1848, which ruined so many, enriched 
 H^rault still more. Taking advantage of the tremendous 
 fall of stocks, he placed all the money at his command 
 in public securities; then in 1852, after the Coup d'Etat, 
 he realised his capital and employed it in the acquire- 
 ment of property in the Champs-Elys6es, for this hard- 
 headed workman guessed, with a wonderful intuition of 
 the luxurious habits of the Parisian upper middle-class, 
 that the new rdgime would encourage the building of 
 
WILL. 37 
 
 palatial mansions, and that favourable sites would soon 
 become worth ten times their present value. While he 
 was busily employed dividing into lots the acres of ground 
 he had bought in the neighbourhood of the Arc de 
 Triomphe de I'Etoile, and which he afterwards sold for a 
 thousand francs a yard, the mansion in the Faubourg 
 Poissonifere came into the market, and falling to H6rault 
 as the highest bidder, he went there to reside with his 
 wife and son, who was by this time twenty-six years 
 old. 
 
 As long as the Empire lasted did the two men toil. The 
 elder H6rault lived but for his trade and brought it to 
 the highest pitch of perfection. His immense workshops, 
 where eighteen hundred men worked amidst an infernal 
 noise, formed one of the curiosities of Saint-Denis, and at 
 the Exhibition of 1867 the erstwhile foreman was made 
 president of the section of machinery, and, afterwards, an 
 ofiicer of the Legion of Honour. 
 
 Finding that he had climbed so high by his activity and 
 intelligence, the ambition of assisting in the government of 
 his country entered H6rault's head. Surely it would be 
 but a child's game to this man to cause himself to be 
 elected deputy for Saint-Denis, for could he not speak their 
 own tongue to the metal-workers as they stood red with 
 the dust of the copper they had been filing 1 It would be 
 enough for him to manifest the desire for his success to be 
 assured, and then who knows 1 Perhaps the ministry of 
 the State works awaited him, and then he would bring 
 about so many necessary reforms, he would introduce so 
 many practical regulations. He might be the founder of a 
 wholesome socialism (a germ of which he suspected lay 
 
38 WILL. 
 
 in the mind of the imperial ruler) which would assure 
 an era of work to the people, fraught with happiness and 
 safety. 
 
 The sudden outbreak of war shattered all these cherished 
 plans, and H6rault, who firmly believed in the supremacy 
 of France, died from the shock the German invasion caused 
 him. Though he was hard-headed enough, he could not 
 bear the sight of his workshops converted into miniature 
 fortresses, and his offices into military hospitals. The big 
 furnaces of the factory standing empty and unused, and the 
 clouds of white smoke which hung over the Fort de Briche 
 formed a spectacle for which he was totally unprepared, and 
 before Paris had capitulated the worthy man had died, 
 leaving his fortune to his widow and his trade to his son. 
 
 Pierre H6rault was a man over forty when the govern- 
 ment of the factory fell into his hands. He had worked 
 under the harsh " master," as he generally called his father, 
 as a clerk, and had been brought up unaccustomed to the 
 slightest luxury, for even when he was worth millions old 
 Herault had made no change in his manner of life. To tell 
 the truth, he did not feel any necessity for doing so ; he 
 had no wants and he only pursued fortune so eagerly in 
 obedience to his innate passion of acquisitiveness. He 
 and his wife Josephine rose at five o'clock in summer and 
 six in winter and went to bed very soon after sunset, 
 and the only pleasure allowed the family was when they 
 took a box at the theatre twice a year — on the " master's " 
 birthday and at Easter — and went to see the piece which 
 happened to be the greatest success. 
 
 "When in 1860 Pierre Herault married the daughter of a 
 rich vermicelli-maker, his father gave him no money with 
 
W11.L. 39 
 
 which to keep his wife, but insisted on his living on the 
 second floor of the mansion in the Faubourg Poissonike. 
 The existence of this family living in the vast house with four 
 servants was the meanest it is possible to imagine. Young 
 and old Madame H6rault had each her own maid, but there 
 was only one cook to prepare the meals which both house- 
 holds took together — not in the splendid dining-room deco- 
 rated with exquisite paintings representing mythological 
 scenes, but in a little room adjoining the kitchen, which 
 had been used in the time of the former masters as 
 an office where the steward made up his accounts and saw 
 the tradespeople. The only man-servant was the coachman, 
 whose duty it was, after having brought back the H^raults 
 from Saint- Denis, and before grooming his horse or washing 
 the carriage, to wait at dinner. 
 
 This life, to which Pierre H6rault had been accustomed 
 from childhood, had seemed very dull and miserable to his 
 young wife. Highly educated and with ideas on life and 
 society which naturally could not be those of her husband's 
 parents, she had found an echo to her own complaints in 
 Pierre's heart, for he also, better educated than his father, 
 and conscious of the advantages of a social life, disliked the 
 existence imposed upon him. Making up the books him- 
 self each year, and therefore aware of the fortune belonging 
 to the family, he blamed his father's parsimony without 
 daring to protest against it. The free disposal of his own 
 allowance and of the income from his wife's dowry had 
 permitted him to indulge in some amusements, but he was 
 always in fear of the " master's " reprimands, and the mono- 
 tonous years rolled on, bringing with them no fresh emotions, 
 no new incidents, but never-ceasing work which seemed 
 
40 WILL. 
 
 objectless, since it was forbidden to enjoy this wealth which 
 was the fruit of it, and which accumulated daily. 
 
 Madame H^rault, the mother, had found an ingenious and 
 not very costly way of employing her time— she gave 
 herself up to a passion for flowers. Her husband had 
 a hot-house built for her at the bottom of the garden, 
 facing the south, and there she cultivated, with the care and 
 patience of a Dutch amateur, orchids of the rarest and most 
 beautiful kinds. Her peasant's nature would not allow her 
 to sacrifice only to pleasure, so she trained vines over 
 the wall at the end of the hot-house, which, in July, bore 
 magnificent bunches of grapes. These grapes were placed 
 triumphantly before Monsieur H6rault after dinner and 
 made him forgive his wife's modest outlay, for in the eyes 
 of the hard-working man, the utilitarian side of the pastime 
 atoned for that which was frivolous. 
 
 Young Madame H6rault, who had no taste for horticul- 
 ture, consoled herself by devoting herself to her child, whom 
 she dressed like a young prince. She could never find a 
 dress too handsomely embroidered, a hat trimmed with lace 
 too precious for little Louis, the dauphin of this house of 
 H6rault-Gandon whose signature was esteemed before all 
 others at the bank, and yet who certainly did not spend 
 more than fifty thousand francs a year in a mansion which 
 had witnessed the f^tes of the Kegency. 
 
 The young wife bore with her present life, cheered by the 
 thought of the splendour awaiting her in the future. Too 
 good to wish for the death of her tyrannical father-in-law, 
 she still knew that he was not immortal, and she was sure 
 that, after the time of mourning, everything in the ways of 
 the family would be altered. But fate had not reserved even 
 
WILL. 41 
 
 this tardy enjoyment for ier, and she died eighteen months 
 before old H6rault, leaving her husband with a six-year-old 
 son to bring up. 
 
 Fortunately there was old Madame H6rault, who un- 
 hesitatingly divided herself between her flowers and her 
 grandson — a still more frail and tender flower than any she 
 had cherished hitherto. He was delicate, this ofi'-shoot of a 
 race of labourers. Pierre was not so strong and vigorous as 
 old H6rault had been, and little Louis was still less robust 
 than his father ; it seemed as though the descendants were 
 getting weaker as well as more refined than the original 
 stock. 
 
 A grandmother's affection for her grandchildren is 
 generally more indulgent and more passionate than is her 
 love for even her own children. It seems as though old 
 people are softened and improved by time as is a generous 
 wine. Perhaps, too, the end of life, which they know to be 
 imminent, causes them to seize all the enjoyment they still 
 can find in their affection, and their kisses are the more 
 affectionate because they may be the last. 
 
 Old Madame Herault had for her grandson an intense 
 and exclusive affection, which would have made her place 
 the world at the feet of this blue-eyed, golden-haired boy 
 if she could, while she manifested an extraordinary in- 
 difference towards her own son. She lived with him in 
 complete harmony, assenting to everything he proposed 
 (for the former slave had quickly transformed himself into 
 master), but with every thought, care, and dream centred 
 in the child. 
 
 Besides, this big fellow of forty-five no longer needed 
 his mother. In a day he had become " H6rault-Gandon," 
 
42 WILL. 
 
 and now reigned in his father's stead ; he was the head — 
 it was his place to command. There was no need to tell 
 him that, and in a very short time the whole appearance 
 of the house was changed. Parsimonious old H^rault had 
 not been in his grave six months before the mansion was in- 
 vaded by armies of workmen, who commenced to restore it 
 to the condition in which it had been left by La G-rimoni^re, 
 in the time when nymphs of the opera ran lightly under 
 the shady trees, stopping to rest in the arbours with 
 Canillacs or La Fares as their companions. 
 
 The shepherds and shepherdesses over the doors, cleaned 
 and revarnished, looked out once more from their frames. 
 The gilding of the drawing-room, tarnished by a century's 
 neglect, reappeared under the painter's sponge, and in 
 taking off the paper in the billiard-room some marvellous 
 tapestry, over which the meaner printed hanging had 
 been placed, was brought to light, while old carved arm- 
 chairs were rescued from the ganrets to which they had 
 been scornfully relegated to make room for the showy 
 mahogany and gilded bronze of the First Empire. 
 
 H^rault was fortunate enough to secure the services of 
 an upholsterer possessed of good taste who provided 
 furniture worthy of the house, so there were none of the 
 loud-coloured curtains and heavy Genoa velvets, such as 
 disfigured houses under the Second Empire, in the drawing- 
 room, but old brocaded silk was used to cover the chairs and 
 drape the windows. The principal staircase was adorned 
 with four panels of tapestry by Lebrun, representing the 
 victories of Alexander, and the wrought-iron balustrade, 
 which had become blackened by time, was skilfully re- 
 gilded. In a few months the mansion had an aspect of 
 
WILL. 43 
 
 luxury in accordance with the wealth of its occupants. 
 The number of servants was doubled ; four horses imparted 
 a little animation to the stables, and in the coach-houses 
 stood elegant carriages. The expenses of the household 
 were increased threefold the first year, but yet they did 
 not absorb a quarter of the revenues. 
 
 H^rault, who had commenced to repair the mansion in 
 fear and trembling, and had said to himself as he put 
 the household on a different footing, " Well, at any rate, 
 I can see how we get on,'' found with joy that his " follies " 
 were in truth very reasonable, and that instead of stopping 
 at what he had already accomplished, he could make still 
 more improvements. 
 
 There seemed no greater pleasure possible to this man, 
 until then deprived of every luxury, than to indulge him- 
 self in every refinement ; and gradually he turned into the 
 easy paths of life. He no longer rose at dawn, as his 
 father had accustomed him to do, for he now belonged 
 to a club, and, when he had sat up late at night, the 
 temptation to stay in bed the next morning was irre- 
 sistible. A manager and three engineers now performed 
 the duties at the factory that his father and he had 
 for so many years so well fulfilled, and thus he had 
 plenty of leisure to enjoy life. 
 
 After a year of celibacy he made the acquaintance 
 at the sea-side of a widow, young, elegant and much 
 sought after, who attracted him to her house and took 
 upon herself the completion of his fashionable education, 
 and in her drawing-room he met a circle of men and 
 women whose one aim in life was pleasure. Had he had 
 a little experience he would have seen at once, that if 
 
44 WILL. 
 
 the men were undoubtedly gentlemen, the women were, 
 for the njost part, of questionable virtue and obscure origin ; 
 but as it was, he only perceived the pleasure he derived 
 from their society, and contributed largely to the costly 
 luxury of her who had provided him with so much amuse- 
 ment, 
 
 He was spending more and making less money than 
 before, for in business nothing can replace the master's eye, 
 but he faithfully conformed to the rules of the modern 
 philosophers who have decided that, as he does not know 
 what awaits him after death, man ought, if he is wise, to 
 commence by making life as pleasant as possible. This 
 airy and dissipated materialism would have made old 
 H^rault, who considered all useless expense extravagance, 
 shudder, but the founder of the fortune was peacefully 
 sleeping in the family vault, while his son scattered the 
 money. 
 
 However Pierre H6rault was not a spendthrift, and if he 
 did not continue his father's work, at any rate he did not 
 destroy what had been already accomplished. He was not 
 becoming richer, but neither was he ruining himself; he 
 simply spent his income, and while he appeared to be 
 squandering everything, in reality was merely living up to 
 his means. 
 
 This, however, was not the line of conduct followed in 
 later years by Louis, who, with the taste for every luxury 
 which he had had since a child, managed to reach the 
 heights of extravagance which his father had never attained. 
 
 From, a boy, it was apparent that he had a marked pre- 
 ference for everything which costs money, and a profound 
 disdain for all that makes it. When he was eighteen, 
 
WILL. 45 
 
 it was impossible to make him pass one examination, 
 although he had undoubted abilities, and it had needed 
 interest to permit him to serve as a volunteer. When old 
 Madame Herault witnessed the departure of this slight, 
 fair, rosy-cheeked boy, who looked like a girl and who 
 would be transformed into a hussar within four-and-twenty 
 hours, the tears she shed were even more bitter than those 
 with which she had mourned her husband, and she 
 wandered about the great house, which seemed empty to 
 her without the presence of her darling boy, like a soul 
 in torment, indifferent even to her flowers, and never be- 
 stowing one glance upon her precious orchids. At the end 
 of a week, unable to hold out any longer, she went to 
 Evreux, where her grandson's regiment was stationed, and 
 put up at the inn. 
 
 But, although she was not exacting, she found it so un- 
 comfortable there that she began to look for a house where 
 she could live in comfort during the twelve months which 
 the " martyrdom," as she called it, of her dear child, would 
 last. Now, the presence of his grandmother was not at all 
 in accordance with the ideas of the " dear child," who had 
 found very merry society in the regiment. These young 
 hussars, volunteers for a year, did not give way to melan- 
 choly, and ten or twelve of them had turned a suburban 
 cottage into a sort of club, where they passed their time 
 very agreeably in smoking, eating, drinking, playing, and 
 the rest of it. A few pretty girls, caught in the town 
 by these ensnarers who made every promise for the future, 
 helped them to bear the burden of life, and never had the 
 presence of a grandmother seemed less necessary than did 
 Madame Hdrault's appear to Louis. 
 
46 WILL. 
 
 His first thought was to send her back to Paris, but you 
 can't so easily get rid of people who love you, and in vain 
 did the hussar explain to the excellent woman that he was 
 in perfect health, that everything was going on as well as 
 possible and that he didn't want her in the least — he could 
 not persuade her that she did not want him. Then he too 
 began to look for a house for the good lady, and as he did 
 not wish her too near the town, he discovered a charming 
 chS,teau at Boissise-le-Eoy, situated on the banks of the 
 Eure, between the forests of Pacy and Breteuil, to which it 
 was united by thinly planted woods. The owner consented 
 to let the house for a twelvemonth, with the understanding 
 that at the end of that time Madame H6rault would buy it 
 if it suited her. Though there was no need for any such 
 stratagems, for he had only to say, " I wish so and so," for 
 his grandmother to at once fall in with his plans, the artful 
 hussar pointed out that there were splendid hot-houses in 
 the chateau grounds, and the tears sprang to Madame 
 H6rault's eyes, as she thought, " He has considered my 
 whims and pleasures," though, in point of fact, this delight- 
 ful egotist had only considered his own. Boissise stood on 
 a hill a few miles from Evreux, which could be seen from 
 the chateau windows. Louis pointed out to his grand- 
 mother the arrow on the top of the cathedral, and said — 
 
 " You can see the roof of the barracks from here with an 
 opera-glass, and we shall be together and yet you will 
 be in the country. At any time you can reach the town in 
 three-quarters of an hour, with good horses, and on 
 Sundays I will come over to see you with some of my 
 friends." 
 
 So Madame H6rault took Boissise, brought her coachman, 
 
WILL. 47 
 
 carriages, and servants from Paris, with the furuiture that 
 was needed for the somewhat barely-furnished chateau, and 
 in the end was very comfortable there. She was delighted 
 with the hot-houses, as much because her old passion for 
 flowers had revived as because Louis had suggested them 
 as an occupation for her leisure time. As for Louis him- 
 self, he shortened as much as possible his drill, thanks to 
 the connivance of the non-commissioned officers, upon whom 
 he showered cigars and money, and passed his days in play- 
 ing poker and baccarat for high stakes and in merry little 
 dinners at the " Caf6 de Paris." 
 
 There was a good deal of game at Boissise, and when 
 August came, Pierre H^rault, who for six months had 
 turned a deaf ear to all the invitations of his mother, who 
 was now again pressing him to pay her a visit, determined 
 to go and see her. He thought the place charming, and, 
 seized by a sudden caprice for the woods and fields, decided 
 to pass the autumn there — after all, Evreux was only two 
 hours from Paris, and it was not like shutting oneself ofi' 
 from mankind to stay at Boissise. Once there he lived in 
 great style, and caused a tremendous sensation in the quiet 
 provincial town. He had already made the acquaintance 
 of some of the officers at his club, and, through them, soon 
 knew all the others who were then at Evreux, and all day 
 long Boissise resounded with the clank of spurred boots. 
 
 But the feminine element was lacking, until a few in- 
 vitations, skilfully distributed among the surrounding 
 chateaux, attracted the wives and daughters of the 
 chdtelains, and then the Boissise receptions began to ofier a 
 harmonious mixture of the sexes. 
 
 The grandmother pleased by her frank good-nature, the 
 
48 WILL. 
 
 son by his simplicity. As for the grandson, he was much 
 oftener to be found at the chateau than at the barracks, 
 although he felt somewhat embarrassed amidst the superior 
 officers notwithstanding they were his father's guests, for 
 the awe which has been established by long months of 
 obedience is not decreased by a few hours of familiar 
 intercourse. 
 
 Pierre Herault, who had learnt to ride since he had 
 entered society, would have liked to hunt. The forest was 
 full of deer, and the surrounding country was not a very 
 stiff one, but, besides the time of year being hardly suitable 
 to stag-hunting, there were no hounds, so he had to be 
 contented with sundry paper-chases, which the hussar 
 officers undertook to make exceptionally exciting. 
 
 Louis, who was a splendid horseman, took care to keep 
 at a distance from his officers on these occasions, though it 
 would have been easy for him to win, thanks to his father's 
 thoroughbreds. But he did not want to offend those who 
 could be severe at Evreux, charming as they were at 
 Boissise, so he started with everyone else, dressed in his 
 simple soldier's uniform for fear of eclipsing the smallest 
 sub-lieutenant by the elegance of his attire, and, after a 
 five minutes gallop, would suddenly turn into a side path 
 and lose himself in the wood, leaving the others to follow 
 the track of the paper. 
 
 A long time he would ride under the cool, leafy dome, 
 while his horse's hoofs sank deep into the thick moss, listen- 
 ing abstractedly to the strident cries of the jays as they flew 
 from tree to tree and to the far away, melancholy call of 
 the cuckoo. When he reached the end of [the wood he 
 dismounted, threw himself down on the^ bank of some 
 
WILL. 49 
 
 ditch, and lay still in the drowsy heat of the summer sun, 
 watching the broad undulations of the yellow corn as it 
 swayed in the breeze. Every now and then he heard the 
 echo of the distant horn, and the profound peacefulness 
 around him gave him a sense of exquisite rest after the 
 noisy pleasures of his ordinary life. 
 
 He did not notice the flight of time as he lay dreaming 
 and thinking that perhaps there might be other pleasures 
 in this world besides suppers, and love that has a market 
 value, and card parties. His soft, tender, somewhat weak 
 nature could have beea easily turned to good. It only 
 needed a firm, constant influence to make of this lad of 
 twenty, who was already being led astray by harmful 
 society, a good and upright man, instead of the rake, 
 useless to others and dangerous to himself, that he 
 promised to become. But his grandmother had not suffi- 
 cient moral authority to exercise this influence, and his 
 father was too intent on making up for his forty years of 
 self-denial to consistently direct any existence but his own. 
 
 One day there had been a picnic near the ruins of an 
 old abbey, well-known to archaeologists by the name of 
 Saint Wulfrand, and about four o'clock Louis was walking 
 his horse home towards Boissise. The whole day his 
 thoughts had been occupied about a request for a large 
 sum of money he was forced to make to his family by his 
 losses at cards, and, after hovering for some time about his 
 father, he had determined to confide his embarrassment to 
 Madame H6rault. He was going home with this intention, 
 thinking, as he smoked his cigar, of how his time of serving 
 would be up in two months, and of the gay life he could 
 then lead in Paris, when, in passing a clearing in the forest, 
 
 D 
 
50 WILL. 
 
 he heard a shout in a clear, treble voice. He stopped and 
 saw someone standing by a carriage about two hundred 
 yards off, beckoning to him. Turning into the path, which 
 was full of deep ruts made by the wood-cutters' carts, in 
 a few seconds he had reached the boy who needed his 
 assistance. 
 
 The latter was a fair, sickly-looking lad of about fourteen, 
 with stooping shoulders, dressed in a cloth blouse, knicker- 
 bockers gathered into leather gaiters below the knee, and 
 a little grey felt hat. The pony-chaise he had so im- 
 prudently driyen into this mire had lost one of its wheels 
 and was lying on its side in the mud. The boy had done 
 his utmost to try and raise it, until he had found that the 
 task was beyond his strength, and he had just commenced 
 to unharness the pony, when Louis appeared on the scene 
 of the catastrophe. 
 
 " Hi, soldier, lend me a hand," he cried imperiously. 
 " I can't get my carriage up, or my horse out of the shafts 
 either." 
 
 "You are going the wrong way about it, my boy," said 
 Louis, jumping off his horse. 
 
 The lad glanced at the hussar rather contemptuously, 
 then shrugged his shoulders, and said : 
 
 " Well, we shall see if you will be any cleverer." 
 
 " There won't be much difficulty about that," replied 
 Louis, calmly. 
 
 He picked up the wheel which was lying in the mud, 
 examined it to see if it were broken, then taking hold of 
 the axle-tree with both hands, pulled the chaise out of 
 the rut. The pony, which was naturally quiet, and was 
 now tired into the bargain, did not move a muscle. 
 
WILL. 51 
 
 " Now I want something to support the axle," said Louis, 
 and pointing to a heap of wood — 
 
 " See, give me two of those bundles." 
 
 The boy took up the heavy branches and brought them 
 in his arms, bending under his load. In his efforts his 
 hat fell off, and Louis saw with surprise that his com- 
 panion's fair hair, was drawn up on the top of the head 
 and held there by a woman's comb. He picked up the 
 hat, which had rolled to his feet, and said with a smile 
 and a slight bow : 
 
 " I must apologise, mademoiselle. If I had known I was 
 dealing with one of your sex, I should not have addressed 
 you so familiarly." 
 
 " Oh, all right ! If that fool of a hat had only kept on, 
 you wouldn't have known I was a girl, so let's suppose it 
 hasn't fallen off, and go on with our work." 
 
 Louis placed the wheel on the axle-tree, fixed it with one 
 half of the broken pin, and spun it round two or three 
 times to see that it was firm. 
 
 " There, it's all right now, and if you wiU get in I might 
 accompany you until we reach the road." 
 
 " But I should not like to take you out of your way." 
 
 " It wiU not be out of my way. I live at Boissise." 
 
 " Ah ! Then you are young H6rault 1 " 
 
 Louis gazed in surprise at the girl who was treating him 
 with such scant ceremony. She was thin, pale, and slightly 
 misshapen, with a delicate-looking face in which shone two 
 grey eyes sparkling with mischief, and apparently not more 
 than fifteen. She had taken the reins in her thin, trans- 
 parent hands, and was trying to start her pony, who, well- 
 pleased with his enforced halt, did not seem disposed to 
 move. She held out her whip to Louis ; 
 
52 WILL. 
 
 " I say, hussar, just give the lazy beggar a cut for me." 
 
 " I will do better than that," replied the young man, 
 and slipping his left arm through his horse's bridle, he 
 placed his right hand on the light pony chaise, and, 
 pushing with all his strength, soon set it in motion. 
 
 They followed the muddy path for some minutes and 
 then came upon a road which cut it at right angles. 
 
 " Here we are, safe in port ! " cried the young girl gaily. 
 " And now, my deliverer, I must assure you of my sincerest 
 gratitude." 
 
 " I have done nothing to deserve it." 
 
 " Oh, yes, you have, and you are simply covered with 
 mud. But, there ! What would you not go through for 
 beauty's sake ! " she continued in tones of bitter sarcasm. 
 " By the way, you have not even asked me who I am. 
 That isn't very polite, you know." 
 
 " I am discreet — " 
 
 " Or rather you are not very anxious to meet me again. 
 I can quite understand that ! " 
 
 And she smiled the pitiful smile of a child whose 
 illusions have been already destroyed. 
 
 " Well, your discretion will not have served you much. 
 I live about three miles from you, and my name is Emilie. 
 My father is Monsieur Lereboulley, the senator— a very 
 big, very good-natured gentleman, with whom you will 
 always meet a pretty woman." 
 
 Louis looked at the girl with questioning eyes. 
 
 " Your mother, I suppose f " he said. 
 
 Emilie's forehead contracted into a frown, her face 
 suddenly hardened, and she answered in a hoarse, trem- 
 bling voice : 
 
WILL. 53 
 
 " My mother is dead ! " 
 
 Then nodding a farewell, she whipped up her pony and 
 drove off. 
 
 For a moment Louis stood gazing after her, puzzled by 
 this odd child in whom sarcasm and sensitiveness were so 
 strangely mingled. But he did not care about analysing 
 the impressions he received, and, giving his horse its head, 
 he soon reached home. 
 
 Monsieur Lereboulley was indeed very amiable, as the 
 H6raults proved the next day, when he came to thank 
 Louis for the assistance he had rendered his daughter. 
 Pierre H6rault and the senator took a liking to each other 
 at once — there was a sort of free-masonry of pleasure be- 
 tween them — and in a few weeks they were fast friends. 
 
 Lereboulley was a big, stout man of fifty, with a round, 
 clean-shaven face like a priest's, and a strong Normandy 
 accent. Tor several generations his family had had great 
 influence in the department of Eure, and in the memorable 
 struggle between the father of the present senator, who 
 was Orleanist to the backbone, and the prefect, in the time 
 of the Empire, the LerebouUeys had only been vanquished 
 with an infinite amount of trouble. The department was 
 bought over by a lavish distribution of favours, and the 
 Government candidate had triumphed. But, under the 
 Republic, Lereboulley had regained all his power, and the 
 town of Evreux was his to a man. He had been elected 
 senator, one of his nephews was a deputy, and, as regards 
 the ballot, they were almost masters of the department. 
 Lereboulley, who was a shrewd, far-seeing man in spite of 
 his easy-going manners, was one of those important per- 
 sonages to whom the Bourse is obliged to pay deference. 
 
54 WILL. 
 
 A governor of the Bauk, and formerly of the Credit Fonder, 
 and a director of the Chemin de Far du Midi, his position 
 was exceptional, both from a political and financial point of 
 view. 
 
 Left a widower, with a daughter he loved all the more 
 because she had been so difficult to rear, he had not married 
 a second time, although opportunities had not been want- 
 ing, for he could never bear the idea of giving a step- 
 mother to his little, delicate Emilie. "If I had other 
 children who were strong and healthy," he thought, " my 
 poor litlle homely one would be neglected, perhaps regarded 
 with contempt. So there must be no rivals ; she sha;ll be 
 the sole ruler in my house." And he had resisted all 
 assaults upon his right hand. But he had made up for it 
 with his left. Gallantry was his darling sin, and, as his 
 daughter had said, he was always to be met with a pretty 
 woman. The house of the widow, who enlivened Pierre 
 H(5rault's life, offered, by means of the people he met 
 there, almost unlimited resources to this senatorial butter- 
 fly, and the intimacy between the two men became very 
 close. H6rault entered into various financial schemes 
 devised by Lereboulley, and Lereboulley turned Hdrault's 
 factories into a company, in which he became one of the 
 largest shareholders. 
 
 The children followed their parents' example, and Louis 
 became Emilie's great friend. It was a strong and sincere 
 affection, into which entered no idea of marriage between 
 the handsome youth and the girl so unfavoured by nature. 
 They had been attracted towards one another, she by Louis's 
 good looks and youthful light-heartedness ; he, on the other 
 hand, by Emilie's physical deformities and her bitter self- 
 
WILL. 55 
 
 consciousness, and the very fact of ^tliere being so great 
 a contrast between them formed the foundation of an 
 indestructible friendship. 
 
 Another great attraction which the H^rault household 
 possessed for Mademoiselle Lereboulley was old Madame 
 H^rault. Deprived as she had hitherto been of all feminine 
 affection, the child at once adopted the old lady and regarded 
 her as her own grandmother, laying aside, for her sake, her 
 odd, boyish ways and becoming a true girl. It was time 
 for her to take a place in the household, for Louis, following 
 his father's example, had taken flight and begun to enjoy 
 life. But how far superior he showed himself in the art 
 of scattering money ! Between Herault's method of enjoy- 
 ing life and that of his son, there was as much difference 
 as between the speed of an old stage-coach and that of a 
 railway train — the one went quietly over the ground doing 
 its nine miles an hour amidst an honest cloud of dust, the 
 other tears along surrounded by smoke and flame, devouring 
 space with a noise like thunder. 
 
 In three years Louis had run through the money left him 
 by his mother, and was just preparing to bestow his signa- 
 ture upon every usurer in Paris when a fit of apoplexy 
 placed him in possession of his father's fortune within five 
 minutes. 
 
 On his return from a little party to which he had been 
 with Lereboulley, Herault had felt a sensation of heaviness 
 and had complained to his servant of a dimness of vision. 
 The next morning he was found dead in his bed. 
 
 The morning • of the day that the H6rault-Gandon 
 mansion was hung with funereal draperies, and about two 
 hours before the open hearse, with its silver embroideries 
 
56 WILL. 
 
 and heavy plumes, bore to his last rest the son of the 
 foreman of the Graville Works, a little hand-cart stopped 
 before the gate and two men unloaded the modest furniture 
 it contained upon the pavement. 
 
 " What a nuisance it is your coming to-day," said the 
 annoyed doorkeeper to the two men. 
 
 " But it's the fifteenth," replied one of them ; " and if 
 anyone's in the wrong it's your dead " 
 
 "He was the landlord," interrupted the doorkeeper, 
 sternly. 
 
 "That only makes it worse," said the other porter, 
 shrugging his shoulders. " There's no sense in a landlord 
 who chooses quarter-day to kick the bucket." 
 
 " Oh, well, get finished quickly before the body is 
 brought out." 
 
 And the moving was completed after three journeys up 
 and down the stairs. 
 
 About "ten o'clock, when the Faubourg was filled bj"^ the 
 crowd of relations, friends, and workmen, come to be 
 present at the funeral, a young girl made her way through 
 the groups and looked at the number on the door, as 
 though the black hangings had so changed the house that 
 she did not recognise it. When she found that she had 
 indeed reached her destination, she gave a slight, frightened 
 start, then as she passed near the cofiin, covered with 
 wreaths and bouquets of flowers which made the air heavy 
 with their perfume, she bent her knee and uttered a short 
 prayer before she went on. 
 
 Thus did H61fene de Graville enter the house at the 
 moment that Pierre Herault was leaving it for ever. 
 
 She did not even know the name of this man whose 
 
WILT.. 57 
 
 birth her grandmobher had legitimised by Fifiae's marriage, 
 for the countess had soon forgotten her generous deed and 
 those whom it had benefited. Her son had succeeded his 
 father in thei management of the factory and the estate, 
 and when he had married his wife had borne him but one 
 child — H61fene. By a turn of fortune's wheel, which is 
 too often seen in this century of feverish activity and 
 merciless struggle for existence, as the workman prospered 
 so did the wealth of the man who had been his master 
 diminish. Le Glandier, in the hands of an incapable 
 manager, absorbed money instead of producing it, and at 
 last, becoming too great an expense, had to be sold. 
 Monsieur de G-raville tried to regain his money by specula- 
 tion, but the outbreak of war dealt a fatal blow to his 
 schemes, and about 1875 the Graville estate, which had 
 been mortgaged to the last acre, was put up for sale and 
 bought at a low price by a Dieppe banker. 
 
 Monsieur de Graville, who had powerful friends, was 
 absolved from any further liability, and was given employ- 
 ment in a Government office ; but after the downfall of Mac- 
 Mahon, he found himself on the Paris pavement without 
 friends or resources. Maddened by his loss and unable to 
 accustom himself to a life of poverty, he gathered together 
 the Httle money left him, and embarked for Texas, deter- 
 mined to meet either death or fortune in the Western 
 country which teems with dangers and riches. Death had 
 been more easily found than fortune. Monsieur de Graville 
 never returned, and his widow was compelled to seek work 
 for her Hying. 
 
 H61fene, then a girl of sixteen, showed a wonderful 
 strength 'of character and a rare courage under these trying 
 
58 WILL. 
 
 circumstances. Seeing that her mother was rendered help- 
 less by so many misfortunes, she resolutely effected all 
 the reforms their new mode of living would necessitate 
 herself. Their one servant was dismissed, their flat was 
 given up for two rooms in the Rue de Cl6ry, and the young 
 girl obtained work from a milliner's shop. From morning 
 till night did the clever fingers arrange and sew with 
 astonishing despatch and skill, and this child, born to 
 luxury, became a tireless workwoman beneath whose hands 
 work melted away as though an invisible fairy were aiding 
 by means of a mysterious enchantment. 
 
 Her mother did nothing but weep and lament their sad 
 fate, and sometimes Hdlfene would say, with a resigned 
 smile — 
 
 " Our life is certainly not very gay, but to how many 
 must it appear enviable ! There are people much worse oif 
 than we are, and when we think of them we must esteem 
 ourselves very gently dealt with." 
 
 '' It's all very well for you to say that," moaned her 
 mother. " Tou have not yet any deeply-rooted habits and 
 customs, but how can I, who have seen prosperity, help 
 grieving 1 What future is there before me 1 If you once 
 fell ill, we should sink into utter ruin, for, alas ! I am 
 entirely dependent upon you." 
 
 " And that is my greatest pleasure. I am proud of being 
 able to return a little of the care you have bestowed on me. 
 But do not worry yourself I am strong, and I shall not be 
 ill ; besides, nothing is so healthy as frugality and hard 
 work.'' 
 
 She laughed, then continued gravely, with a shake of 
 her little head — 
 
WILL. 59 
 
 "And I will not be ill." 
 
 " You will not ! " repeated her mother, in her discouraged 
 weariness. " Everything would be easy if it only depended 
 on one's will." 
 
 "And a great deal does depend on the will," replied 
 H61fene, with a slight contraction of the eyebrows which 
 imparted a singular expression of energy to her youthful 
 face. "Only it is not sufficient to will a thing for five 
 minutes and then stop. The will must be constant and 
 continuous." 
 
 "Whence do you obtain so much assurance?" asked 
 Madame de Graville, a little vexed by this determined 
 optimism. 
 
 " I don't know," answered H61fene, naively. " It's in me, 
 I suppose. But I can't be otherwise, and I do not wish to 
 be." 
 
 " / will, and / wish,'' said the widow, sadly. " Even the 
 king says, ' ffe wish.' " 
 
 " Oh, but he has ministers ! " cried H6Wne gaily, as she 
 kissed her mother. "And I have none, so I have more 
 freedom than he has." 
 
 And again she began to ply her needle. 
 
 Madame de Grraville began teasingly to call her daughter,- 
 " Mademoiselle I will," but her child's strength of character 
 was not without its influence upon her. She felt that 
 H616ne was morally her superior, and, in the confidence of 
 weakness, she abandoned her life to her government. She 
 had no cause to repent doing so. In two years their 
 position was so far improved that they were no longer 
 actually pinched by poverty. The firms for which H61fene 
 worked had increased her pay, and had often offered | her 
 
60 WILL. 
 
 the position of forewoman at their shops, but the young 
 girl did not like the idea of being so little above a servant. 
 Besides, she would have had to leave her mother alone all 
 day, and Madame de Graville was not in a fit state, either 
 morally or physically, to be left by herself. Her weak 
 health demanded H61ene's constant attention, and the 
 young girl remained at home to work. 
 
 As long as daylight lasted^ she sat working by the 
 window, listening to the hum of the busy street. Then, as 
 evening closed in, she lighted her lamp and continued her 
 task in the tiny room which served as dining-room. Her 
 mother sat dozing over the feuilleton in the day's paper, and 
 at eleven o'clock drowsily allowed herself to be undressed 
 and put to bed, after which H61ene sat beside her and read 
 her off to sleep. 
 
 "We have changed our parts," Madame de Graville 
 would say when she was in a good humour. " You are the 
 mother now, and I am only your old baby.'' 
 
 She was indeed a child, to whose whims both present 
 and future had to give way. If H6I^ne had been perfectly 
 free, if, instead of being fettered, she had been helped 
 onward, she would probably have made her fortune in 
 business. Her quiet activity, her smiling confidence won 
 everybody's sympathy, and in her presence one felt at once 
 that she was no ordinary girl. 
 
 With her pretty face she did not want for admirers, and, 
 amidst .the dishonourable proposals she had received, one 
 straightforward and serious ofi'er had been made her. The 
 head of a large mourning warehouse — A rimmorieUe—-'had 
 wished to make her his wife. He was a man of forty, not 
 very good-looking, but clever and immensely rich. But 
 
WILL. 61 
 
 Hdl6ne, in spite of the advice of her mother, who saw that 
 her daughter's marriage would mean an easy and assured 
 future for them both, refused to marry him ; she preferred 
 to remain as she was rather than give her hand to a man 
 she could not love. Her mother was terribly grieved at 
 her decision, for she liked the owner of L' Immortelle. 
 
 " You always like to obey your own fancies," she said to 
 H^lene, " and with this man you could satisfy every caprice. 
 He would be your slave.'' 
 
 " And what good would that be to me, if I do not like 
 him 1 Besides there is no pleasure to me in having my 
 own way, unless it benefits those I love." 
 
 Three peaceful, uneventful years passed by, each day, like 
 the other, filled with work and made glad by affection. 
 Then a catastrophe came to break the happy monotony. 
 Madame de Graville died suddenly from the rupture of 
 an aneurism, and, without warning, without preparation, 
 H^16ne found herself completely alone in the world. For a 
 week the brave girl felt crushed, and her reason swayed. 
 Her father had died far away from her, and, however 
 deeply she had felt his loss, the blow had not been so direct 
 as the one under which she was now bowed down. Her 
 mother, with whom she had lived from her birth, without 
 one absence coming to break their tender intercourse, had 
 been suddenly taken away from her ; every tie which had 
 attached the loving daughter to her parent had been roughly 
 broken, and her physical pain was intense. All at once 
 she saw her future before her like a black and gaping 
 chasm, which made her giddy as she gazed, and she stayed 
 alone in her room, weeping. 
 
 But this utter abandonment could not last long, and 
 
62 WILL. 
 
 when the poor girl again came in full possession of her 
 senses, she could not bear the thought of staying in these 
 rooms, where, every hour of the day, she expected to see 
 her mother, and thus it came to pass that she entered the 
 house in the Faubourg Poissonifere the very day that Louis 
 followed his father to the grave. 
 
 H61fene's window looked on to the courtyard, and every 
 day she saw the young fellow pass in or out, dressed 
 in black like herself. When two people happen to meet 
 who have the same sorrow or the same joy, there is gene- 
 rally a secret sympathy between them, and the fact of this 
 rich young man being oppressed by the weight of a similar 
 affliction to her own drew H616ne's pitying attention 
 towards him. It was the first time in her life she had 
 taken so much interest in a man. 
 
 During the six months which immediately followed 
 Monsieur H^rault's death, Louis led a more regular life and 
 seemed thoroughly reformed. He lived with his grand- 
 mother, lunched with her every morning, then went to his 
 father's office at Saint-Denis to attend to the business of the 
 factory, returned home to dinner, and passed the evening 
 with Madame H6rault, with whom he generally found 
 Emilie LerebouUey who had redoubled her care and atten- 
 tion for her old friend. 
 
 Every morning and evening did H61fene see Louis from 
 her window. At first she did not even know his name, for 
 the Hdraults' agent had let her the room, audit was only 
 by chance she learnt it from old Anselme, who informed 
 her, at the same time, that the young man was very rich, 
 and not very steady. 
 
 The distance between the little work-girl and young 
 
WILL. 63 
 
 Hdrault was so great that H6l6ne felt there could be no 
 danger in letting her thoughts turn so frequently to this 
 handsome man, whose conduct, according to the doorkeeper, 
 was far from being all that might be desired. But the 
 porter must have exaggerated tremendously, for Louis's 
 behaviour was exemplary. He went out at the same time 
 every morning and returned at the same hour every even- 
 ing as regularly as clock-work, always with that sweet, sad 
 air about him which he had had from a boy, and which 
 all through his life won him sympathy and indulgence, in 
 spite of his misdoings. 
 
 During the first months of sorrow and regret, he did 
 sincerely mean to reform and to become as steady as he 
 had been gay. He was now twenty-six ; had he not had 
 enough amusement, and could he not now devote himself to 
 business as he had hitherto devoted himself to pleasure 1 
 Was it not an interesting task to direct the vast Saint- 
 Denis factory, where two thousand men worked amidst the 
 noise and din? Was he not concerned in ten of Lere- 
 bouUey's transactions, and would he not find his time, if he 
 chose, entirely taken up by the care of the great interests 
 he had to develop ? Besides he had good business capa- 
 cities and he knew he could perform his task well. 
 
 His managers and foremen were delighted at his praise- 
 worthy zeal. They thought they were again to have a master 
 at their head, and their eagerness to help him in the execu- 
 tion of his schemes encouraged Louis and sustained his good 
 resolutions a little longer than if he had been left entirely 
 to himself. But at the end of six months, tired of his self- 
 imposed retreat, and weary of work, Louis made his reap- 
 pearance at his club. The demonstrations of joy with 
 
64 WILL. 
 
 which he was greeted made his re-entry into the world the 
 more pleasant; and pulled in opposite directions by duty 
 and by pleasure, he gave way to that which seemed the 
 more agreeable. 
 
 From that day Madame H6rault dined alone with 
 Emilie lereboulley almost every evening, and it was seldom 
 the young work-girl saw Louis at the same time two con- 
 secutive days. The first time he did not return to dinner 
 she forgot to dine herself. With her work fallen on her 
 knees, she stayed at the window listening for the firm step 
 which she always recognised as it passed through the gate 
 and which announced Louis's return, but gradually night 
 drew on, lights gleamed from the windows of the H6tel 
 Hdrault, Emilie's carriage drove up to the door, and the 
 servants began to busy about dinner. The clock of the 
 church Saint-Eugfene struck eight, and with a tight feeling 
 around her heart, H616ne said to herself: "He is not 
 coming ^home." Then her bosom heaved with a sigh, and 
 she went into her bedroom feeling as sad as if she had just 
 lost a friend. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Count Woe^SEFp's ball justified every expectation. In 
 the hall of the mansion in the Champs-Elysdes, which was 
 lighted by electric lamps till it looked like a fairy palace, 
 was a pleasure-seeking, animated throng, moving in an 
 odorous atmosphere composed of the scent of flowers and 
 the perfumes exhaled by beautiful women. Surrounded 
 by a triple circle of onlookers, the dancers were valsing to 
 the irresistible strains of an orchestra which was hidden by 
 a screen of foliage, while from the balcony which runs all 
 round the first storey leant more spectators, watching the 
 picturesque groups formed by the intermixture of the men's 
 black and red coats, and the bright-coloured dominos of the 
 women. 
 
 Above the sound of the instruments rose now and again 
 a murmur of voices, vibrating as the fluttering of wings ; 
 pearly bursts of laughter resounded like a joyous flourish of 
 trumpets, and up the great carved wood staircase, decorated 
 with panels painted by Baudry, flowed the curious crowd, 
 eager to see the count's luxurious home. 
 
 Every room in the mansion was thrown open, from the 
 Eenaissance vestibule with its walls of Florentine mosaic, 
 to the Louis XV. bedroom, whose luminous ceiling has 
 gained for itself celebrity in gallant society — the guests 
 could go where they liked. 
 
 "You must consider this as your home for this night," 
 
 E 
 
66 WILL. 
 
 had said the wealthy Russian noble to his friends, and, with 
 the hospitable pomp of an Eastern satrap, he had placed all 
 the marvels he possessed at their disposal, and was now, in 
 his own house, only the guest of the people who had asked 
 him to give this f^te. He had united all the illustrious, 
 charming and agreeable people in Paris, with but one 
 exception — he had proscribed the Due do Bligny who had 
 eloped with his wife, two years ago. 
 
 " And," said the count, " it is not so much because he 
 has deprived me of the society of the countess, as because 
 in the duel which resulted, he placed a ball in my thigh 
 which will make me limp for the rest of my days. 'A wife 
 can always be replaced, but a leg, never." 
 
 All the large clubs were represented by their best known 
 members, and a few velvet masks which had been taken off, 
 on account of the heat, disclosed to view, beneath the lace 
 of the hoods, the pretty faces of the most charming actresses. 
 The Press was represented by a dozen journalists chosen 
 from amongst those who have both talent and conscience. 
 Leaning against a marble column, the chief of contemporary 
 actors — recognisable by his tall figure, his large forehead, 
 over which fell the rebellious locks of hair, and the long 
 grey moustache which shaded a sarcastic .mouth — was 
 listening with a smile on his lips, to two young women who 
 were requesting a consultation on an embarrassing question 
 of conscience, and a little farther on, thin and pale, with 
 his JSTapoleonic profile, the only author who has been able 
 to win fame and success with paradoxical writings was 
 showering the riches of his mind upon a circle of hearers, 
 his wit and epigrams flowing forth, sparkling as a stream 
 of precious stones. 
 
WILL. 67 
 
 The man on whom has fallen the mantle of the Flemish 
 masters, as little in stature as his talent is great, was 
 stroking Ms long, flowing beard as he listened to the 
 celebrated musician Vignot, who, with an air of inspira- 
 tion, and his head, so like one of the apostles, held per- 
 fectly erect, was discussing painting and corroborating the 
 tales that were told of his knowledge being universal. A 
 young opera dancer, whose fame, carefully fostered by a 
 banker, a patron of the arts, is commencing to equal that 
 of the brightest stars, was hanging on the arm of the 
 boyish manager of the Com6die Fran9aise, whom she was 
 flattering as if she aspired to a place in his company. He 
 was smiling as he teasingly praised Italian choregraphy, 
 and well did he deserve to have his fingers rapped with his 
 fair companion's fan as he extolled Cornalba to the skies. 
 The Prince de Cravan — whose word on any question of 
 fashion or elegance was law — was walking with a closely 
 masked domino, shaking his grey head with a laugh, when 
 anyone asked : " Who is she 1 " " Introduce her to me," 
 had said a lady friend of his, and he had looked shocked 
 and replied in a whisper : " Impossible ! She is Grille 
 d'Egout ! " 
 
 There were indeed guests of all kinds at this discreet ball, 
 where, thanks to their masks, duchesses and demi-mondaines 
 could meet and elbow one another. Only the gentlemen's 
 cards had been demanded as they entered, the ladies' in- 
 cognito being scrupulously respected, and Wor^sefl^ could 
 conscientiously say that he did not know in the least who 
 was at his house and who was not, that evening. It was 
 just this mixture of vice and virtue, of the oldest nobility 
 and women of the lowest birth, this putting next to each 
 
68 WILL. 
 
 other pell-mell all these people separated under ordinary 
 circumstances by the insurmountable barriers of social 
 laws, which had excited so much interest and curiosity. 
 
 LerebouUey had seated himself at a card-table in a little 
 Eastern drawing-room, decorated with suits of armour, and 
 had begun to play poker with Sir James Olifaunt, Bram- 
 berg and Sdlim Nuno. The beautiful Diana had taken 
 Clement de Thauziat's arm and started on a tour of the 
 rooms, and the senator, easy in the knowledge that she was 
 accompanied by this redoubtable ensurer of respect, pre- 
 pared to win some of the money of his associates in the 
 Foreign Bank. He had been there about half an hour, 
 nothing had happened to disturb him and on his priest- 
 like countenance there was an expression of utter satis- 
 faction, when a couple entered the room and came over to 
 the table. The woman was small and slight and wore a 
 pale blue satin domino trimmed with exquisite Valen- 
 ciennes lace ; her cavalier was Louis H6rault. 
 
 The senator raised his eyes, and recognising the young 
 man : 
 
 " Ah ! You are already in possession," he said with a 
 meaning glance. " You are never behindhand." 
 
 Louis looked at LerebouUey and replied with an easy 
 smile : 
 
 " If I have this young person on my arm, my dear fellow, 
 it is simply to render you a service." 
 
 " Do I know her then ? " 
 
 " As if you didn't know all the women ! " 
 
 " Let's see who this one is — " 
 
 And the big man rose and left his cards. He was about 
 to raise the lace flounce of the mask when the domino 
 
WrLL. 69 
 
 took him by the shoulders and gave him a kiss on each 
 cheek. 
 
 " Ah, ah ! " exclaimed Louis, gaily. " If that doesn't 
 mean affection, I don't know what does." 
 
 After the salute the domino sprang back with a strident 
 burst of laughter which brought a frown to LerebouUey's 
 brow, and, taking her companion's arm again, passed 
 quickly and lightly into the next room. 
 
 " I could have sworn it was that mad Emilie," murmured 
 the senator, as he gazed after the girl. Then, with a shrug 
 of the shoulders, he resumed his seat at the table and 
 continued his game. 
 
 It was indeed Emilie, who for the last hour had been 
 going from group to group with her friend, uttering a 
 mocking phrase here, a pleasant word there, and liberally 
 dispensing the treasures of her wit to all and sundry. 
 Already she had found herself surrounded by a curious 
 group anxious to hear the answers she was making to one 
 of the cleverest literary men of the day. In a disguised 
 voice she mocked and rallied with charming ease. There 
 was nothing violent or ill-bred about her repartee, it was 
 simply an elegant badinage, amidst which a home-truth 
 burst forth every now and again, like the explosion of a 
 cracker at a f^te. 
 
 Louis was enchanted, for, thanks to his companion, he 
 found himself the object of much attention, and he left 
 Emilie to speak and do as she liked, merely aiding her 
 when she needed support by a few happy, good-natured 
 remarks, and, above all, obeying with great docility the 
 pressure he sometimes felt on his arm as a signal to direct 
 their walk through the rooms. She scarcely stood still a 
 
70 WILL. 
 
 minute to speak in her disguised tones to the guests 
 with whom she was acquainted — and they were in the 
 majority — before she moved on again, scanning the crowd 
 with her clear-sighted eyes as if she were eagerly seeking 
 some one. 
 
 In this way they reached, Louis and she, the door of the 
 conservatory, where, beneath broad-leaved plants, and 
 amidst moss soft as silk and emerald green, flowed, 
 with silvery ripplings, a little stream, which issued from 
 a ewer held by a marble nymph, and fell at last into 
 a basin with porphyry brim. A gilded trellis-work, over 
 which grew red and white camelias, covered the walls, and 
 from the glass roof fell creepers which intertwined like 
 long green serpents, while a black marble Venus on a 
 bronze pedestal seemed to be the presiding and mysterious 
 goddess of this tropical retreat, where the heavy exhalations 
 of the plants united with the sharp perfume of the peat 
 mould to form a warm and enervating atmosphere. 
 
 As soon as they had entered the door, Louis felt Emilie's 
 hand tremble on his arm, while a stifled sigh escaped her 
 lips. He did not need to question her — a glance had 
 shown him Clement de Thauziat standing near a marble 
 seat on which sat a woman in a white domino. 
 
 A lock of golden hair could be seen beneath the lady's 
 hood, and though the upper part of the face was covered 
 by a black velvet mask there was nothing to hide the 
 crimson mouth, with its double row of pearly teeth. When 
 she smiled a delicious dimple appeared on each cheek, and, 
 as far as one could judge for the flowing garment which 
 disguised her, her figure was tall and elegant. As she sat, 
 gently swinging a tiny foot encased in a white satin 
 
WILL. 71 
 
 slipper, a glimpse could be caught of an exquisite ankle, 
 with the rosy skin showing through the fine, open-work 
 stocking. Her hands, which were rather large, were play- 
 ing with a fan composed of pale pink feathers. 
 
 Clement, in a white satin waistcoat, with a flower in his 
 buttonhole, and looking as handsome as an Italian prince, 
 was lazily talking as he familiarly fanned his companion 
 with his opera hat. 
 
 " Oh, oh ! Here is Monsieur de Thauziat," exclaimed 
 Emilie, in a shrill treble voice. " And with a pretty 
 woman, as usual. Good evening, madame," she continued, 
 bowing with comic grace. " Are you not afraid of com- 
 promising yourself by flirting with so handsome a man ? " 
 
 The white domino made no reply, but carelessly fanned 
 herself. 
 
 " You will not crack your voice, my pretty one, if you 
 are not more talkative," pursued Emilie. " But, oh, what 
 a pretty foot you have ! How about the hand ? Let us 
 
 And before Thauziat's companion could make any resist- 
 ance she had taken her hand and was quickly stripping off the 
 long white Swedish kid glove. Then she felt the fingers and 
 palm, turning them about with the air of a fortune-teller. 
 
 "Can you tell fortunes, pretty one?" asked Clement, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " When I am asked to do so; only I am not very discreet, 
 and I reveal all I see." 
 
 " That only makes it the more interesting. What has 
 been predicted for you, Louis 1 For I suppose you took 
 advantage of your exceptional chance and insisted on know- 
 ing your fate 1 " 
 
72 WtLL. 
 
 " No, I did not ; so your companion will be the first 
 to have the future revealed to her, if she cares to hear 
 about it.'' 
 
 The white domino made no answer and tried to withdraw 
 her hand, but Emilia held it tightly in her nervous fingers, 
 and, unless she chose to commence a struggle which might 
 have turned to her disadvantage, the lady could do nothing 
 to regain her freedom. 
 
 Emilie bent over the rosy palm in silence. Her eyes 
 gleamed fiendishly through the openings in her mask and 
 her mouth curved as though to utter a sarcasm. 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " said she, in two different intonations. " This 
 is a very curious hand, and it is impossible to preserve any 
 illusions about its possessor after studying it, for it gives 
 every information about her character. The line of the 
 head predominates over the line of life, and absolutely 
 overwhelms the line of the heart, which means that every 
 passion, caprice, or desire, and, in fact, every important 
 characteristic, is governed by the reason. And here is the 
 Mount of Venus tolerably well developed, but so closely 
 connected with that of Mercury that the instinct of gain 
 and profit triumphs over that of love. Oh, it's no good 
 denying it, it is, written there," she continued, touching the 
 centre of the hand with her thin finger ; " our favours are 
 not to be had for the asking, and to gain our approval, 
 gold must be spent with a lavish hand " 
 
 The pitiless examination was abruptly stopped, for the 
 lady in the white domino suddenly rose and violently 
 snatched away her hand, while the expression in her eyes 
 as she turned them on Emilie was simply murderous. 
 
 " Why, whatever is the matter ? " cried Mademoiselle 
 
WILL. 73 
 
 Lereboulley, like a teasing urchin. "Madame is angry? 
 Madame is hurt? Pardon me, madams is perhaps a woman of 
 society ? But, nowadays, the love of some women of society 
 costs as dear as that of women of a very different class ! " 
 
 Louis had uneasily drawn nearer as he saw the threaten- 
 ing turn the incident was taking. He seemed more eager 
 to protect the lady in the white domino from Emilie's 
 violence than the latter from the anger of the woman she had 
 so cruelly insulted, though, for some seconds. Mademoiselle 
 Lereboulley seemed in actual danger. Her victim's face 
 had turned livid, and her teeth were clenched upon her 
 white lower lip. She raised her hands with a hiss of rage, 
 as if about to strike, and then, seeing that she was power- 
 less to avenge the insult she had received, she abruptly 
 turned and left the conservatory, muttering, 
 
 " She shall pay for this.'' 
 
 " I shall pay for this ! I daresay," cried Emilie, sending a 
 loud burst of laughter after the retreating woman. " Didn't 
 I tell you, one never got anything out of you for nothing ! " 
 
 She turned towards her companion, and, pointing to the 
 beautiful fugitive — 
 
 "There, go after her. You know you are dying to 
 do so." 
 
 " Are you saying that to make me leave you alone with 
 Thauziat 1 " asked Louis, laughingly, 
 
 " Perhaps," replied the girl, placing her hand on Clement's 
 arm. " I really ought to be very grateful to this redoubt- 
 able champion for not having taken up the cudgels- of his 
 lady-love against me." 
 
 "She is quite able to fight her own battles alone," 
 answered Thauziat, calmly. 
 
74 WILL. 
 
 " And you leave her to fly without hastening after her ? " 
 
 " Do you not see that she has a cavalier ready to her 
 hand ? " he returned, glancing at Louis who was already 
 on the track of the white domino. 
 
 " You are not jealous,? And yet she is very lovely." 
 
 " She certainly is lovely, but there is not the slightest 
 reason for me to be jealous." 
 
 " Or rather there is no longer the slightest reason. And 
 is that true f " 
 
 " Do I not say so ?" 
 
 " "What a splendid reason ! " cried Emilie, with a laugh 
 that was a little forced. " A man may be sufiiciently stupid 
 to be satisfied with an argument like that, but a woman — 
 ridiculous ! " 
 
 " I never take the trouble to tell falsehoods." 
 
 " Besides, with me they would be useless. I know too 
 much of the truth for you to attempt to deceive me." 
 
 " Did you read it in the hand of the beautiful blonde 1 " 
 asked Clement, smiling. 
 
 " Whether I read it in her hand or in your eyes does not 
 matter. I know it." 
 
 " Let me see whether you do." 
 
 " Very well, then, come into this little corner, where we 
 shall not be disturbed." 
 
 And she drew C16ment under a large Bourbon palm 
 whose enormous leaves formed a sort of bower, beneath 
 which was a seat of gilded cane. Climbing heliotropes 
 scattered an exquisite perfume on the air, the little stream 
 murmured and rippled between its mossy banks over the 
 white pebbles of its bed, a soft light filtered through the 
 foliage overhead, while the music from the orchestra only 
 
WILL. 75 
 
 reached their ears in snatches, as though to remind them 
 that they were not utterly alone and that around this 
 delicious oasis of peace and freshness the tide of society was 
 rushing fast and furious without rest or intermission. 
 
 Nestled in her corner, Mademoiselle LerebouUey gave 
 herself up for a moment to the. pleasure of studying her 
 companion's face. He meanwhile waited calmly and good- 
 temperedly, in perfect security. An onlooker would have 
 said that he knew he could not escape this interview, and 
 that he ' had fully prepared himself for it. It was he who 
 first broke the silence. 
 
 " My dear little sorceress," he said gaily, "you must now 
 offer an explanation. You pretend to know the truth, so 
 let us see what • you have hidden in your casket of 
 scandal." 
 
 " Very well," returned Emilie. " We will commence 
 with the beautiful Diana, who is the wearer of the white 
 domino. She can be easily recognised by her golden 
 hair, so that there is no sorcery in identifying her — and 
 after her, it will be your turn. It was you who dis- 
 covered her, in London, in 1878, and gave her her first 
 start. Her name- was then Kate Browne and she was 
 serving behind a bar in Chancery Lane, where she dis- 
 pensed sandwiches and ale to the solicitors' clerks. Her 
 wealthier admirers had no cause to complain of her 
 hard heartedness. She was exceedingly ignorant, but as 
 beautiful as illiterate, and when a law-suit led you by 
 chance to the place where she served, she inspired you 
 with both admiration and pity — an artist like yourself could 
 not witness unmoved this marvel of seventeen spoiling her 
 hands by rinsing out glasses, and ruining her mind by 
 
76 WILL. 
 
 drinking with second-rate men about town. Although 
 your rule is never to hamper yourself with a woman, you 
 took her under your protection and her position was at 
 once entirely changed. It was then after the season and 
 you were visiting at different country houses in Yorkshire 
 and Scotland for the shooting, but between each visit you 
 passed a few days with her. You had given her masters, 
 because it hurts your refinement to hear people with whom 
 you have much intercourse speak bad grammar, and be- 
 cause you do not like to receive letters in which the rules 
 of orthography are utterly disregarded, and she profited by 
 your generosity to such a degree that, in a few month's, she 
 was so altered that her former companions in pleasure or 
 want would not have known her. Her face resembled the 
 Kate of former times, but in ways and behaviour she was 
 a lady. When the rough corners of ignorance and coarse- 
 ness had been polished off and she had become a dangerous 
 instrument admirably formed for vice, the exigencies of 
 your life recalled you to Paris, and you restored her her 
 liberty after bestowing on her a kiss and a thousand 
 pounds in bank notes. She was now Diana, but she was 
 not yet Lady Olifaunt. She had all that is needed for a 
 gallant career — a marvellous beauty, an utterly corrupted 
 mind and, above all, no scruples. She only wanted a 
 partner to make the conquest of society, and that partner 
 she soon found in the person of Sir James — " 
 
 Thauziat had listened so far without a sign of any kind. 
 His handsome face was so calm and smiling that one would 
 have sworn from his appearance that there was no question 
 of himself at all, and that this history was absolutely in- 
 different to him. It was only at this moment that he gave 
 
WILL. 77 
 
 a slight start of surprise. Then he said calmly, without 
 even taking the trouble to attempt a denial : 
 
 " Who has given you such good information 1 There 
 are very few people who know what you have just re- 
 lated to me." 
 
 " I lived in England for some years," replied Emilie, still 
 in an assumed voice. 
 
 " You do not speak with any accent," remarked Thauziat, 
 with a glance of incredulity. 
 
 " Diana has hardly any more than I have and she has 
 only been in France for two years, but creatures like her 
 are especially gifted. Shall I continue 1 " 
 
 " Yes, you are interesting and amusing me greatly." 
 
 " If Diana were here, we should be still more amused." 
 
 " Why, would you relate this before her 1 " 
 
 " Certainly I would." 
 
 " You hate her ? " 
 
 " I do not honour her so far. I despise her as I would 
 the mire beneath my feet." 
 
 "You should take care! She is by no means an in- 
 offensive woman, and is quite capable of using vitriol." 
 
 Emilie could not repress a gesture of boyish indifference. 
 
 " Pooh ! And if she did disfigure me, how do you know 
 I should not gain by it 1 " she asked in her natural bitter 
 tones. 
 
 " Coquetry prompts you to say that," returned Thauziat 
 gallantly. 
 
 " Ah, I see you don't know who I am," she said with a 
 nasal twang. 
 
 There was a pause ; then she continued her narrative. 
 
 " Plana is well worthy of attention, but Sir James 
 
78 WILL. 
 
 Olifaunt is still more remarkable. He belongs to an ex- 
 cellent family, and, when young, went to India, where he 
 did not make a fortune, but where he did contract habits 
 which have clung to him all his life. Gambler, rake, 
 drunkard, he is all these, but he manages to hide his vices 
 under irreproachable manners. He lives on the liberality 
 shown him by Lady Olifaunt's lovers, not one of whom 
 dares to manifest the least want of respect, for he is a first- 
 rate shot and the death of three men can be laid at his 
 door — oh, killed in duel, of course ! Sir James is a gentle- 
 man, he does not murder. And yet this bully cringes to 
 you, and it all tends to make one believe that you know 
 things of a very compromising nature about him." 
 
 "Perhaps I do." 
 
 " Do you know in what parish he married Diana?" 
 
 " No. But I know they were married in England." 
 
 " By the blacksmith at Gretna-Green, no doubt ? They 
 were joined by a blow of the hammer ! At any rate their 
 interests form a strong link between them, and woe to him 
 who falls into their clutch ! Therefore do not allow that 
 innocent Louis H^rault, whose friend you call yourself, to 
 advance any farther in the intrigue he has commenced with 
 the enchantress. He is pursuing it in earnest, but there 
 may still be time to undeceive him, though you alone can 
 do it." 
 
 " What do you fear for him 1 " 
 
 "Everything. With such a woman the worst is to be 
 dreaded. Louis H6rault is very rich, and very much in 
 love. She may make him run away with her, and then, 
 what would Sir James do 1 " 
 
 " Nothing. I will answer for that." 
 
WILL. 79 
 
 " But if it should make Louis unhappy ? " 
 
 " You are right. He is young and does not know what 
 line of conduct he ought to follow with Diana, but I have 
 the means of curing him, and will use them should it be 
 necessary." 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 " Excuse me if I do not tell you.'' 
 
 " You are very mysterious.'' 
 
 "I am very discreet." 
 
 For a moment Emilie was silent, then she whispered, as 
 if the lace of her mask formed a screen through which her 
 voice could hardly pass — 
 
 " Then what would you reply if you were asked whom 
 you love ? " 
 
 " I could tell the truth without compromising anyone : 
 I love no one." 
 
 " Your heart is free ? " 
 
 "Completely.'' 
 
 " Only since a short time then ? " 
 
 "Since always. I have never loved." 
 
 Thauziat had become very grave. He fixed his searching 
 gaze on the woman who was striving to puzzle him, then 
 said slowly and seriously — 
 
 " Until now, my heart has never thrilled with love. I 
 have had gallant adventures and I have loved in the 
 ordinary and light acceptation of the word, which is yet the 
 most serious a man can utter, but I have never felt myself 
 ready to give up my life rather than relinquish a woman. 
 If ever one of my friends had come to me and said : ' I am 
 in love with your mistress,' I should have felt no sorrow in 
 giving up my claims to her affection, and I should never 
 
80 WILL. 
 
 have thought of the matter again, except to be glad that I 
 had not made two people miserable when it was in my 
 power to make them happy. Since I reached the age of 
 reason I have been fighting against the difficulties of life ; 
 I have made every effort to surmount the obstacles in my 
 path, I have tried to vanquish fate, and I have come off 
 victorious in my battle with fortune. In my struggles I 
 have had to form my opinions of those who were on the 
 same side as myself, and of those who were against me, and 
 I very soon found that in general the ones merited very 
 little esteem, and the others as little fear. It always 
 seemed to me that in reality to succeed, it only needed the 
 determination to succeed, and that the world was at the 
 feet of those who had the strongest wiUs. UntU now I 
 have had a great deal of determination as regards my 
 fortune, but I never stopped to make up my mind about my 
 happiness. One of these days, I shall discover the woman 
 who has been created for me — for there is another half 
 specially destined for every being in this world — and that 
 day I shall place aU the resources of my energy at the 
 service of my passion. The woman I love must belong to 
 me, and I feel that to obtain her I would hesitate at 
 nothing." 
 
 " And if there was a woman who loved you now 1" 
 " I would do all in my power to love her in return, but I 
 know beforehand that I should not succeed. A town 
 already captured has no attraction for me. What I demand 
 is conquest — I desire to become the master of the impreg- 
 nable fortress whose walls have to be scaled at the risk of 
 mortal injuries — in short, my nature longs for battle. I was 
 born with an instinctive horror of all that is conventional, 
 
WILL. 81 
 
 pre-arranged or common-place, and every event in my life 
 bears the impress of my liking for new and strange sensa- 
 tions, for all that is unique, or precious on account of its 
 rarity. Perhaps it is a misfortune for me to be so consti- 
 tuted. I often tell myself that I shall suffer cruelly through 
 some terrible deception, and yet I cannot bring myself to 
 regret being thus a seeker of the impossible who would be, 
 as I am well aware, somewhat pretentious, if he had not the 
 excuse of perfect sincerity." 
 
 " Then if a girl, very rich, very clever, not pretty — 
 far from it— but capable of filling whatever position fate 
 chose to allot her, offered you the hand she has refused to 
 every brilliant, titled, and even noted man Paris contains, 
 what answer would you make to this woman, bold enough 
 to step beyond the barrier of worldly propriety and to come 
 to you herself, proud enough to think that you would be 
 able to understand the compliment of her choice and with 
 a heart loving enough to compensate for the wretched 
 imperfections of her form by its continual and constant 
 aifection 1 What would you reply 1 " 
 
 The girl's figure seemed to expand as she spoke, and her 
 eyes sparkled as they looked through the holes in her velvet 
 mask. She had placed her trembling hand on Clement's 
 arm and her whole being exhaled a troublous charm. 
 Under her pale silk domino, she seemed like one of the 
 disguised fairies one reads of in children's tales ; would not 
 the first word of love from Prince Charming effect a meta- 
 morphosis, and cause a young princess to emerge from the 
 hood and drapery, triumphant and superb in her restoration 
 to liberty and happiness % But the word so eagerly awaited 
 was not pronounced, and for some moments Thauziat 
 
 r 
 
82 WILL. 
 
 remained plunged in a painful meditation, while over his 
 handsome, manly features came an expression of deep mel- 
 ancholy. It was only when he heard a heavy sigh from 
 the woman sitting beside him that he again raised his head. 
 The domino's hand was no longer on his arm, but he took 
 it and gently pressed it between his own. Then he said, 
 with an accent of sorrow he did not attempt to dissimulate — 
 " I shall never forget the words you have just uttered, 
 and whatever service you may ever request me to render 
 you, you will find me ready to attempt." 
 
 And as the young girl started in surprise and trouble — 
 " Yes, I know who you are," he continued, with tender 
 respect. " I recognised you at once, and perfectly under- 
 stand your meaning. You are speaking of yourself, and 
 you are certainly doing me more honour than I deserve. 
 Perhaps, and I have a presentiment that it is so, I am 
 about to turn my back on what would ensure my true 
 happiness ; but I should not be the man I am if I were so 
 inconsistent as to do what I have decided I ought not to 
 do. It would be wrong — nay, wicked — to bind myself 
 with a chain which I could not throw off at my wish, for I 
 should certainly break it and by so doing betray and grieve 
 a woman worthy of my entire affection and esteem. I shall 
 be the abject slave of the one who gains my heart ; but, 
 until I have met that woman, I cannot answer for myself. 
 I should only make you unhappy, and it would make me 
 wretched and ashamed to think I was doing so. You know 
 that for a long time my liking for you has been especial 
 and sincere. Forget on your side all that has been said 
 within this last half-hour, but give me the right to think of 
 it as of the most delicately flattering proof a woman could 
 
WILL. 83 
 
 ever give a man of the confidence she places in his honour. 
 And now give me your hand freely and frankly, and show 
 me that you are the woman I have depicted and that I 
 believe you to be by forgiving me the momentary sorrow I 
 am causing you." 
 
 Emilie slowly removed her mask and revealed' to 
 Thauziat her pale face, down which the tears were yet 
 running. The satin lining of the mask was humid, and 
 she drew his attention to it with a sad smile. 
 
 " Some women weep only for joy,'' she said, softly. " I 
 know but the tears of grief and disillusion, and yet those 
 I have just shed are amongst the sweetest that have ever 
 moistened my eyes. You are proud, Clement, and you 
 have reason to be so. You owe everything to yourself, 
 and you are, therefore, within your rights when you make 
 of your ' I ' a pitiless divinity to whom you sacrifice all. I 
 should have been your friend and ally rather than your 
 wife, and you may be sure all your efforts would have been 
 well seconded by me. But there are some people whose 
 lives are destined to be uniformly unhappy, and I am one 
 of them, in spite of the envy I excite. I must ask you to 
 believe that I would have given everything I possess to find 
 favour in your eyes, for you are the only man amongst all 
 those I have met Vi^ho has seemed to me worthy of a 
 woman's attachment." 
 
 Thauziat gravely shook his head as he turned to Emilie 
 with a look full of modesty. 
 
 " You have not enough indulgence for others, and you 
 have too much for me. If you regarded me with unpre- 
 judiced eyes you would be the first to perceive it." 
 
 For some minutes they remained silent, each trying to 
 
84 WILL. 
 
 regain their self-possession. The sweet quiet of this leafy- 
 corner formed an exquisite contrast to the tumult of the 
 ball and the agitation of their own thoughts. Through 
 the doorway could be seen the couples gliding round in 
 obedience to the rhythm of the valse, and the faces of all, 
 men and women alike, wore that air of uniform content 
 which denotes a complete absence of thought. They were 
 whirling round and round, and one could see that at that 
 moment the world, which was itself spinning round, held 
 nothing else to occupy them but the pleasure of so turning. 
 
 " They are enjoying themselves," said Emilie, glancing 
 towards the dancers. " They are very happy." 
 
 She had risen and replaced her mask. 
 
 "Now, will you do me a great favour? Yes, no doubt. 
 Well, then, do not pay any more attention to me this even- 
 ing. I am going straight to my carriage ; it is only a five 
 minutes' drive home from here, and they will be waiting 
 up for me, so I shall not even have to ring the bell. Only, 
 do look after that poor Louis who is now in the hands of 
 his English witch. There, those are my wishes." 
 
 " I will obey them." 
 
 They returned to the ball-room, merely walking side by 
 side, and when, after they had made a few steps among 
 the throng, Clement turned to speak to Emilie, she was no 
 longer beside him, and, if he pleased", he could look upon his 
 strange conversation with her as a dream. 
 
 Thauziat went into the drawing-rooms, whither the dancers 
 had retired to flirt. Lounging on soft, low seats, standing 
 in the large bay-windows, or wandering about arm-in-arm, 
 men and women were talking in whispers with mouth 
 close to the listening ear as if the words of love ought to 
 
WILL. 85 
 
 be murmured in close proximity, lest, in passing through the 
 air, they should lose some of their penetrating charm. In 
 a little room furnished in Turkish fashion, and which the 
 count used as a smoking-room, couples were reclining 
 amidst the cushions of the low divans, and there it was not 
 words which were being exchanged in the soft light shed by 
 a Moorish lamp, it was kisses. 
 
 Clement passed quickly through. He did not need to 
 disturb the lovers. Diana would not be there, for her 
 English modesty would have been shocked by the laisser- 
 aller of this ending to the ball, and he must seek her in a 
 more temperate atmosphere. He went through the vast 
 dining-room where supper was being served on little round 
 tables, amidst the clinking of silver and china, with true 
 Russian luxury and profusion. Then he returned to the 
 card-room and found Lereboulley and Sir James in the 
 same places, continuing, with their same companions, the 
 same game — poker — they had been playing since the begin- 
 ning of the evening. The senator looked vexed, while 
 before Sir James, who was very red, lay a large heap of 
 gold and bank-notes. The Englishman had several times 
 held the royal flush, and he was evidently fleecing the other 
 three players. 
 
 Thauziat went up to the table, and, turning to Lereboul- 
 ley while one of the players was dealing, asked — 
 
 " Have you seen Louis Herault lately ? " 
 .Sir James looked up from his cards with a friendly 
 glance for Clement — 
 
 "He passed through here about half-an-hour ago," he 
 replied. 
 
 " Was he alone ? " 
 
86 WILL. 
 
 " No. He had a white domino on his arm, and they 
 went out by that door after stopping a moment to watch us 
 play." 
 
 " Well, they didn't bring you bad luck ! " said CMment, 
 jokingly. 
 
 "No, as you see." 
 
 The Englishman had spoken in the tranquil way of a 
 husband who does not imagine that the costume he has 
 just described conceals his wife. Lereboulley seemed a 
 great deal more concerned, and turning to Clement — 
 
 " Take my hand for a moment, old fellow," he said. " I 
 shouldn't mind stopping a little while to see if that will 
 change my luck." 
 
 "You want to deliver me up to the tender mercies 
 of the terrible Sir James 1 No, thank you. Keep your 
 place, dear boy, you can afford to do so with your 
 means." 
 
 And disregarding the banker's supplicating glances he 
 continued his way, and entered the library which was a 
 large room surrounded by low book-cases fuU of precious 
 manuscripts and rare medals, while, on one side, a 
 little glass-covered balcony looking on to the Champs- 
 Elys^es formed a charming nook with its silk-cushioned 
 bamboo easy-chairs, and its jardinieres filled with flowers. 
 The large window which formed one side of the balcony 
 was thrown open, and Louis and Diana were leaning on the 
 iron balustrade, talking as they inhaled the pure night air. 
 It was two o'clock and the stars no longer shone so brightly 
 in the gradually whitening sky. The warm air was filled 
 with the perfume of the chestnut blossoms, and below the 
 window stretched a row of carriages the whole length of 
 
WILL. 87 
 
 the street, looking like a black serpent with glittering eyes. 
 There was a deep silence all around, and, in this house 
 crowded with people, shining with light and filled with the 
 sound of joyous music, Diana and Louis felt as though they 
 were utterly alone. 
 
 From the moment she had fled from the conservatory to 
 escape Mademoiselle LerebouUey's terrible jests, the young 
 man had not left Diana, and she, on her side, had brought 
 every artifice her coquetry could suggest to bear upon him. 
 He had found her standing by a window outside the con- 
 servatory, with bowed head and tearful eyes, and she had 
 allowed. him to take her hand as if she were unconscious 
 of his presence. He had tried to talk to her, but she 
 had made no answer, and seemed unaware that he was 
 speaking. Her bosom heaved with sighs, her lips quivered, 
 and Louis, overcome by this grief, which was yet so charm- 
 ing to see, gently pressed Diana's fingers, and then, as they 
 were not withdrawn, ventured to place his arm around the 
 slender waist which did not seek to avoid his embrace. 
 And so when the adorable woman's grief and anguish began 
 at last to subside, she found herself in Louis' arms, with 
 her head almost on his shoulder. She pushed him away 
 with charming indignation, and stepped back a pace, with 
 an expression of severity and displeasure in her eyes and 
 mouth. 
 
 " You see the effect of such abominable calumny," she 
 said, in a voice broken with sobs. " You dare to treat me 
 as you would half the women here ! Do you then believe 
 that what was said of me was true 1 " 
 
 And as Louis made a gesture of entreaty and opened his 
 lips to protest ; 
 
88 WILL. 
 
 " Do not reply," she resumed. " I do not wish to hear 
 idle words, or untruthful protestations which would not 
 serve to conceal from me your scorn. What crime have I 
 committed that I should be hated 1 Why am I thus 
 hunted down "! I cannot bear it, and I will go away, never 
 to return. The people who dislike me shall not see me 
 again. This Emilie — for I recognised her — -persecutes and 
 tortures me, though I have never injured her in any way. 
 I do not even know her. Is it because she is ugly and 
 deformed that she has a spite against me ? But it isn't 
 my fault that she is so plain. If her father knew of her 
 behaviour to me he would soon see into it ; but I wiU not 
 make any complaint. I should be afraid of grieving him, 
 and of forcing him to give explanations which might be 
 painful to him to prove to that detestable girl that he has 
 the right — oh, the most natural and the most sacred one — 
 to interest himself in me." 
 
 She crossed her hands on her breast like a martyr await- 
 ing in the arena the ferocious animal that is to tear her 
 limb from limb, and her lips moved as though in prayer. 
 Louis, dazzled by her marvellous beauty and bewitched by 
 her charm, did not even try to understand her words as 
 long as he could hear the sound of her voice. At this 
 moment he would have disowned Emilie for ever although 
 he loved her as a sister, he would have picked a quarrel 
 with Thauziat, he would have given all he possessed only 
 to take this adorable enchantress in his arms and bear her 
 away as his booty, which no one else had a right to touch. 
 His looks betrayed his desire, for I)iana turned away her 
 eyes as if they were hurt by too bright a light, and, draw- 
 ing her domino around her with a modest, shame-stricken 
 
WILL. 89 
 
 gesture, she drew back a step, blushing like a school- 
 girl. 
 
 "Do not leave me thus," exclaimed Louis, in ardent 
 tones. " You know you can command me anything. You 
 know that I am your faithful slave, your devoted friend, 
 and that I am ready to defend you against any one and 
 every cue." 
 
 " You would have too much to do if you attempted that," 
 said Diana, gently. " Besides I have no right to your 
 services, and I cannot allow you to fight on my behalf. 
 Go, and leave alone the unhappy woman against whom 
 every one may cast the stone of slander.'' 
 
 She could not have spoken words better calculated to 
 make Louis long to die for her. He approached her, and 
 said with a smile of youthful confidence : 
 
 " Take my arm, and for the future fear nothing." 
 
 She raised her eyes to his, and then, as though fascinated 
 by the firm resolution she read there, took the arm which 
 was ofiered her, and followed the young man. 
 
 They entered the card-room, as Sir James had said, and 
 Diana could not resist the desire to approach the table 
 where they were playing poker. Her husband cast an 
 indifferent glance at her and continued his game. Lere- 
 bouUey displayed more agitation, and it needed a very 
 imperious glance from Lady Olifaunt to njake him keep his 
 seat. The senator was apparently suffering torture. His 
 face and ears became a brilliant red, and he presented the 
 spectacle of an old man who is a prey to a desire which he 
 is forced to restrain, and which threatens to produce a fit 
 of apoplexy. Then Diana glided away like a phantom in 
 her white domino, and the next instant she was on the 
 
90 WILL. 
 
 balcony of Count Worfeeff's library with Louis by her 
 side. 
 
 At first she remained silent, leaning against the iron 
 balustrade and enjoying the soft night breeze which 
 caressed her snowy forehead. She had removed her mask, 
 and Louis could give himself up to the admiration of her 
 exquisite face, than which it was impossible to imagine 
 one nearer perfection. In her large blue eyes, fringed with 
 long, black lashes, was an expression of gentle candour; 
 her crimson mouth had the soft curves of a Madonna's 
 lips, while her little nose, with its delicate, rosy nostrils 
 gave a delicious air of self-will to the face. It was the 
 most adorable countenance a lover could desire, with the 
 seraphic purity of the eyes and mouth and the utter 
 audacity of the nose which seemed to be defying the whole 
 world. But at this moment Louis did not notice this 
 diabolic nose. He only saw the angelic mouth and eyes, 
 and he thought that to have the right to close those orbs 
 with a kiss which would make the white eyelids droop be- 
 neath its voluptuousness a man might weU commit a crime 
 and feel no regret. 
 
 After a few minutes Diana gave an exclamation of 
 vexation, passed her hand over her forehead as though to 
 rid herself of a disagreeable thought, and turning towards 
 her companion : . 
 
 " I beg your pardon," she said with a sad smile, " but I 
 had forgotten myself in the thoughts of the painful past 
 which forms my whole existence. For though I am still 
 very young — I am only twenty-four — I have had, and have 
 still, much trouble." 
 
 Then as she saw Louis' look of surprise, she shook her 
 
WILL. 91 
 
 head, while her bright hair shone like a helmet of gold, and 
 continued ; 
 
 " Oh, I have no longer the same cause for unhappiness 
 as in bygone times. I have known what it is to suflFer 
 poverty — almost hunger. My mother died, leaving me 
 alone in the world, for my father had entirely lost sight of 
 us. It was only by chance that his powerful protection 
 was restored to me, and God alone knows for what 
 calumnies his generous bounty has served as a pretext. 
 But I do not regret my former misery when I compare it 
 to the days which have succeeded it. Then at least I was 
 free and my own mistress, while now I am bound to a man 
 who wUl never understand me." 
 
 She shuddered, drew her silken hood around her head, 
 and then in tones that sounded as if she were making a 
 strong effort of will to restrain her sobs : 
 
 "But I do not know why I am telling you all this. 
 What does it matter to you how I suffer? Yon cannot 
 help it." 
 
 " You are telling me because you know that I love you," 
 replied Louis. " Oh, yes, you do know ! For the last six 
 months you could have guessed it from my agitation when 
 I approached you, from the trembling of my voice when I 
 was happy enough to speak to you. Everything has told 
 it you — my timidity when I followed you without daring 
 to risk a confession, my boldness at this present moment 
 when I am pouring all the love and adoration my heart 
 contains at your feet. Yes, I have seen that you are not 
 beloved, and that you are riot happy. Good God ! How 
 can it be possible for a man to be with you daily and 
 hourly without feeling the influence of your charm, with- 
 
92 WILL. 
 
 out falling at your knees never to rise again ! When I 
 even look at you, a quiver passes through me ; when my 
 hand touches yours it seems to me that my veins are filled 
 with liquid fire, and I would give my life to call you 
 mine, for I know that one hour of your love would be 
 worth all the days I have still to live." 
 
 Louis had murmured his avowal in a soft, caressing 
 whisper, bending nearer and nearer towards his companion. 
 His eyes gleamed, his lips were burning, and Diana looked 
 at him from under her half-closed lids, moved in spite of 
 herself by this outburst of sincere and youthful passion. 
 Eeally he was charming just then, and worthy of being 
 loved. The Englishwoman's lips expanded in a melancholy 
 smile : 
 
 "How many have already told me what I have just 
 heard from you, without my believing one word of it for- 
 tunately, for it was only dictated by caprice or idle fancy. 
 It seems a fatality in my existence that every man I know 
 should think himself obliged to swear that he adores me. 
 And what false vows, what faithless promises they are that 
 are made me ! Yet you, perhaps, are more genuine than the 
 rest, and really love me, for you have been true to me for 
 some months. But if I listened to you, how long would 
 your passion last 1 A woman is a plaything for men like 
 you ! I have been told that you have lived a very fast 
 life, although you are still so young, and besides, you are 
 always with Clement de Thauziat." 
 
 " You are not going to tell me anything bad about him, 
 surely 1 " asked Louis, in trembling tones. " People say 
 he has known you intimately for a long while." 
 
 " Come, be frank ; you have heard he was my lover ? " 
 
WILL. 93 
 
 questioned Diana, with sudden harshness in her voice. 
 "Perhaps he has told you so himself. Some men are 
 capable of the most infamous actions to gratify their 
 vanity." 
 
 " He has never said anything to me about you, although 
 I have often questioned him, for all that concerned you was 
 of so much interest to me that I would rather have learnt 
 who and what you were, even though it would have 
 wounded me deeply to hear it. Alas ! I love you so fondly 
 that I am afraid I should only have forgotten whatever ill 
 I might have heard, and that my affection would have been 
 as intense as before." 
 
 " Are you quite sure of that 1" 
 
 Suddenly Diana's face changed completely. Her eyelids 
 quivered, her nostrils dilated, her rosy mouth curved 
 sarcastically and with an air of bravado she cried : 
 
 " And if I told you myself that Clement has loved me, 
 that he did not find me quite irresponsive to his passion, 
 and that perhaps I still " 
 
 She was unable to finish the sentence. Louis had seized 
 her by the shoulders, and, with a violence it was useless to 
 resist, had lifted her above the iron balustrade. Another 
 instant and she might be crushed to atoms on the pavement 
 of the street below. She did not move a muscle to defend 
 herself. Her hair, unfastened by this brutal grasp, fell 
 around her shoulders like a perfumed mantle, and as she 
 lay in the arms of the man who held her life in his hands, 
 there was an expression of radiant triumph on her face. 
 For an instant they remained motionless, gazing into each 
 other's eyes, then, writhing as might a green bough cast 
 into a furnace, Diana sought Louis' lips and pressed on 
 
94 WILL. 
 
 them a long kiss. It seemed to the young man as if flashes 
 of dazzling light were passing over the sky, there was a 
 ringing in his ears and his brain whirled as he buried his 
 hands in the wealth of golden hair, whose silky waves 
 enveloped him like a sea of fire. 
 
 "When he regained his senses, he saw that the sky was 
 clear and bright, the street empty and dark, and he could 
 hear in the distance the orchestra still playing its dreamy 
 waltzes. Near him stood Diana, looking a little pale as she 
 gathered up her hair. She only made a feeble resistance 
 when he took her eagerly in his arms, and with his mouth 
 close to her ear he whispered : 
 
 " I adore you !" 
 
 "And yet you would have kUIed me," she said, with an 
 incredulous shake of the head. 
 
 " Why did you put my affection to so terrible a test?" 
 
 " To see if you really loved me. But are you indeed so 
 jealous t" 
 
 "For a moment my torture was so cruel that I was 
 bereft of reason. There was no truth, was there, in what 
 you said to me 1 " 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " Now I could not bear the thought of sharing youi 
 affection with another." 
 
 Diana looked down as she replied somewhat con- 
 strainedly — 
 
 " You forget that I do not belong only to myself." 
 
 "Have you not often told me yourself, that you are 
 married to a man who is only husband to you in name ? " 
 
 " Still, however much his conduct towards me is to be 
 censured, I am not the less his wife, and nothing can alter 
 
WILL. 95 
 
 the fact that I bear his name. Listen ! I have been foolish, 
 and I am already beginning to bitterly reproach myself for 
 my imprudence. Already you are assuming the right of 
 directing my conduct and if I listen to you I am lost. 
 Therefore I entreat you to forget what has just passed. 
 For a moment, carried away by your passion, intoxicated by 
 your words, I forgot my own honour and gave myself up to 
 the mad dream of devoting my whole life to you. But you 
 must see that such a thing is impossible. You will have 
 been the only man to whom I have ever abandoned myself 
 even for a moment and I could have loved you — I do 
 already love you too much for my own happiness — but we 
 have not yet committed any wrong, and it will be better to 
 suffer and to part." 
 
 " Do not hope that I should ever consent to such a thing." 
 
 "Then what do you want?" exclaimed Diana. 
 
 " You." 
 
 Again he held her in his arms and felt her heart beating 
 against his own. He would have kissed her, but she 
 avoided his lips and he only succeeded in touching a thick 
 twist of her golden hair. 
 
 Diana seemed almost in a delirium. Instead of repelling 
 Louis, she clasped him closely to her, while inarticulate 
 cries escaped her lips. The tears flowed down her cheeks, 
 her heart was apparently torn by the most passionate 
 love and the deepest despair. Louis gazed at her, too much 
 fascinated by her beauty to think of taking advantage of 
 this momentary madness which left her without defence. 
 
 " I want you, and for ever," he repeated. 
 
 And she answered, as she fixed her eyes on him — 
 
 '' Yes, I will be yours, come what may ! I will die 
 rather than give you up ! " 
 
96 WILL. 
 
 Then, exhausted by the emotions they had experienced, 
 they stood on the balcony, pressed close to one another in 
 silent enjoyment of the delicious moments. 
 
 The sound of footsteps disturbed their mute happiness. 
 They sprang apart, and, looking round, saw Thauziat beside 
 them. 
 
 " I have been looking for you this last half-hour,'' he 
 said, coolly. " Did you come here to get a little fresh 
 air 1 " 
 
 " Yes," replied Diana, composedly, while Louis stepped 
 into the library to hide his agitation. " The heat in the 
 ball-room was stifling.'' Then, after a short pause, "What 
 time is it 1 " 
 
 " Three o'clock in the morning," answered Thauziat, 
 looking at his watch. 
 
 "It is time to leave. I must go and tear Sir James from 
 the pleasures of the card -table." 
 
 She turned towards Louis, and holding out her hand 
 with friendly indifference, as though nothing extraordinary 
 had passed between them — 
 
 " Good-bye," she said. " I suppose I shall see you some 
 time to-day ? " 
 
 " Certainly," he replied, bowing as he released her hand. 
 
 When he again raised his head the train of her white 
 domino was disappearing through the doorway, and he was 
 left alone with his friend. 
 
 " Well, I left you plenty of time to talk to Lady 
 Olifaunt," said Clement ; " and I hope you noticed that I 
 came in very discreetly, and made a noise to announce my 
 presence. You seem on the best of terms with her." 
 
 " Yes,'' said Louis, shortly. 
 
WILL. 97 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " exclaimed Thauziat. " Is that all your 
 gratitude prompts you to say 1 It isn't my fault if she has 
 not been kind to you." 
 
 Louis laid his hand on his friend's arm, and looking at 
 him gravely — 
 
 " Listen, Clement. If you do not mind, we will never 
 speak of Lady Olifaunt to each other again ; it would be far 
 better than to discuss her with this insulting levity." 
 
 "Eh? What ?" cried Thauziat, in surprise. "What's 
 the matter ? What has happened ? 'What has she been 
 saying to you? Whence this sudden respect — this un- 
 expected esteem 1 " 
 
 " Three words will explain all : I adore her ! " 
 "That's nothing new. You've been smitten with her 
 for the last six months." 
 
 " I adore her, I tell you ! " repeated Louis, hotly. " And 
 I am ready to do anything to be always with her — elope 
 with her, marry her, if needs were ! " 
 
 Thauziat fidgetted one of his white, well-shaped hands, 
 and he frowned as he murmured to himself — 
 
 " Women are clearer-sighted than we are. Emilie was 
 quite right when she said what the affair might lead to." 
 He turned to his friend. 
 
 " To run away with her would be a great deal, to marry 
 her, too much. Men don't marry Diana when they can 
 so easily dispense with the ceremony." 
 
 " Ah ! Take care, Clement ! " exclaimed Louis, turning 
 white. " You are insulting the woman I. love, and I will 
 not have it ! " 
 
 " You are threatening me, I believe ? " said Thauziat, in 
 accents so harsh that the nerves of the younger man 
 
 G 
 
98 WILL. 
 
 vibrated. " Pardieu ! That is, indeed, the best means of 
 making me bold my tongue ! If the charming creature 
 pleases you, you blockhead, be her lover ; but, for Heaven's 
 sake, don't run away with her, and, above all, don't get her 
 divorced from the excellent Sir James. He would never 
 forgive you." 
 
 Clement began to laugh. His gaiety exasperated H6rault 
 who went up to his friend with clenched fists, crying — 
 
 " Once more, I tell you, take care ! It is cowardly to 
 insult a woman." 
 
 " Take care yourself ! " interrupted Thauziat. " You 
 young fool to let yourself be taken in by plausible tales 
 uttered by a pretty mouth ! Are you so far gone that you 
 mistrust my friendship, and hesitate between me and a 
 woman ? It would serve you right to let you be taken in, 
 and I would do it if I had not promised someone, who is 
 good enough to take an interest in you, to keep you out of 
 the hornet's nest you are doing your best to get into. I 
 suppose you believe in Diana's purity and affection, don't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 As Louis answered, Lereboulley came in from the card- 
 room. 
 
 "It is getting late," said the senator; "but I suppose 
 yoa young men intend to stay some time longer ? I 
 am going to walk home, so good night, or rather good 
 morning." 
 
 He waved his hand to them, and moved heavily away. 
 Then Thauziat turned to his friend, and said gravely — 
 
 " Lereboulley is going to walk home— let us follow him. 
 You will soon know what to believe." 
 
WILL. 99 
 
 They went downstairs, put on their overcoats, and went 
 out into the Champs-Elys6es. The senator was walking 
 down the deserted avenue about twenty yards in front of 
 them, with a cigar in his mouth, his hands in his pockets, 
 and his stick under his arm. 
 
 " He is going home," whispered Louis. 
 
 " You will see," replied Clement. " But let us walk in 
 the shadow of the trees so that he does not recognise us." 
 
 They reached the roTid-pomt, and there, instead of turn- 
 ing into the Avenue d'Antin, LerebouUey kept to the left, 
 crossed over the road as though he were going to the circus, 
 and turned into the Avenue Gabriel. Thauziat had placed 
 — almost forced^ — Louis' arm under his own, and he felt it 
 tremble. 
 
 " Do you begin to suspect whither he is going ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 Louis made no reply, but his breath came loud and 
 heavy, as if his heart were oppressed beneath some weight. 
 The senator walked quietly on, never dreaming he was 
 being followed, and when they were opposite the Caf^ des 
 Ambassadeurs, Thauziat stopped, drew Louis behind a 
 clump of bushes and waited. LerebouUey walked about 
 twenty paces farther on until he came to a little door in 
 the garden railings hidden by ivy and, after mechanically 
 glancing round to see he was not observed, turned the 
 key and went in. 
 
 A stifled cry escaped Louis' lips. He turned pale as 
 he looked at his friend, who made not the slightest move- 
 ment, then in a trembling voice : 
 
 " The wretch ! She led me to believe he was her 
 father ! " 
 
100 WILL. 
 
 Thauziat shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " That is what she generally says ; she must give some 
 explanation for the luxury in which she lives. LerebouUey 
 has compromised himself for her ever since she has been in 
 Paris, and that is why Emilia hates her so. Now be her 
 lover if you like, but don't run away with her, for that 
 is useless; and don't marry her, for that would be 
 disgraceful." 
 
 " I will never see her again ! " 
 
 " There is no need to deny yourself that pleasure. She 
 is nice to look at, but you mustn't believe her." 
 
 Louis took Clement's hand and pressed it. 
 
 "Forgive me for what I said to you," he said with 
 emotion. " I was mad." 
 
 " I am not vexed with you for what you said. I am 
 only angry with you for forcing me to betray a woman." 
 
 And with a sudden movement he threw his arm around 
 his friend's shoulder and drew him far away from this 
 house, which seemed to hold him spell-bound before it. 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 It was one o'clock in the afternoon, and H^lfene 
 Graville had just finished lunch and resumed her work 
 when a gentle ring at the bell called her to the door. 
 She hurried to open it, and then drew back a step as 
 she found herself face to face with a little old lady, richly 
 dressed and with a scarf of black lace over her head, in 
 whom she recognised Madame Hdrault. The latter smiled 
 at her attractive young tenant as she said : 
 
 " Excuse me if I am disturbing you, my child. I have 
 come to see you, as you perceive, simply as a neighbour. 
 I have heard that you are very clever at embroidery, 
 and I thought I should like to entrust to you some very 
 delicate work I want done." 
 
 " Will you be good enough to come in, madame V said 
 H61ene, in her sweet voice. " Though I must apologise 
 for my untidy room." 
 
 Pieces of material were lying on the chairs, the sewing- 
 machine was uncovered and ready for use, trimmings of 
 jet and pearls had been taken out of their cardboard boxes, 
 and were Ijring scattered about, and, near the window, from 
 which Helene had so often watched Louis, stood the table 
 covered by a magnificent piece of sUk half embroidered. 
 
 " Do not apologise," said Madame Herault, seating herself 
 on a cane-bottomed chair. "I am used to the disorder 
 entailed by work. I worked hard myself for forty years of 
 
102 WILL. 
 
 my life, and I garden every day now. And apparently you 
 do the same, my dear." 
 
 She had risen and gone to the window, outside which 
 was a box filled with hyacinths and climbing convolvulus. 
 
 " The creepers form an economical sun-blind in the 
 summer," said the girl gaily, " and then I go out so seldom 
 and my flowers remind me of the country. All my child- 
 hood was passed in the open air in the fields and woods, 
 and when I came to Paris my greatest trial was being 
 compelled to stay indoors so much. But one becomes 
 accustomed to everything in time," she added with a 
 charming smile. 
 
 " You are philosophic." 
 
 " I am obliged to be. If I did not always endeavour to 
 see everything in its best light my mind would soon be- 
 come soured, and I should think myself much to be 
 pitied." 
 
 " And are you not to be pitied 1 " 
 
 "No, madame. At least not from a physical point of 
 view, for I earn more than enough to live upon, though 
 morally, yes. A year ago a misfortune befell me, for which 
 I can never be consoled." 
 
 And as Madame Herault's eyes expressed her kindly 
 curiosity — 
 
 "I lost my mother," H^lfene added, while her lip 
 quivered, " and since then I have been quite alone." 
 
 She wiped away a tear, then raising her eyes to her 
 visitor — 
 
 " Forgive me, madame, for troubling you with my 
 sorrows. Will you tell me how I can be of use to 
 you t " 
 
WILL. 103 
 
 Madame Herault drew forth a parcel carefully tied up 
 with pink ribbon, opened it and held out to Hdl^ne a China 
 crape shawl embroidered in different colours. 
 
 " I used it as a cover for a table in my bedroom and 
 my maid has been stupid enough to burn a hole in the em- 
 broidery. I value the shawl exceedingly, because it was 
 given me ; do you think you could repair the damage 1 
 You see how delicate and various is the shading of the 
 birds and flowers 1 They are almost as if they had been 
 painted and I know it would be a difiicult task, but I 
 have heard you embroider with the fingers of a fairy." 
 
 Helfene leant over the stuff and handled it gently with 
 her supple fingers. She seemed to take a real pleasure in 
 touching the gossamer-like tissue. Her taste for the re- 
 finements of luxury betrayed her aristocratic origin, and 
 one could guess she was the descendant of a race created 
 for elegance and wealth merely by the way she turned and 
 unfolded the silky shawl. 
 
 While H61ene examined the work, Madame H6rault 
 looked round the modest room. Everything was ex- 
 quisitely clean, in spite of the disorder for which H61ene 
 had apologised, and the shining furniture told of the daily 
 attention it received. There was nothing vulgar or common- 
 place even in the arrangement of the room, and a little 
 mirror artistically draped with plush, a few ornaments of 
 no intrinsic value but tastefully arranged, a hanging book- 
 case filled with leather-bound books on which a monogram 
 was staroped — relics of former wealth — showed that the 
 occupant of this humble lodging was far superior to her 
 position. Near the fireplace hung the portrait of a young 
 and elegant-looking man, in a black frame beneath which 
 
104 WILL. 
 
 a penny bunch of violets, still quite fresh, was fastened as 
 a pious votive offering. Madame H^rault gazed at the 
 portrait for some moments, but there was nothing in the 
 face to awaken her memories. 
 
 " Is that your father 1 " she asked at last, turning to the 
 work-girl. 
 
 " Yes, madame," answered R&hne, lowering her tone a 
 little and speaking as if she were in a church. 
 
 " I was told your name was H616ne Graville," resumed 
 Madame H6rault, " and I once knew a village of the same 
 name in Normandy, near Saint-Aubin. Do you happen to 
 come from there 1 " 
 
 " I was born at the Chateau de Graville," replied H61fene 
 gravely. 
 
 Then both remained silent, thinking of the past. The 
 young girl saw once again the large estate with its dark 
 beech-woods, its green lawns sloping down to the Scie, its 
 orchards filled with apple-trees which, in the springtime, 
 were powdered white like the marquis of the court of 
 Louis XV., and in the autumn, bent beneath the burden of 
 their rosy-cheeked fruit. Again she felt the fresh sea- 
 breeze blowing on her face, the breeze which impregnated 
 the plants with its salt odours, and imparted to the grass 
 the element of wholesomeness which caused the cows to give 
 purer and more plentiful milk. On the hill, the stone and 
 brick balustrade of the chateau terrace stood out against 
 the sky, and amidst the clumps of lilac and laburnum- 
 trees walked a man and woman in the sun. The man was 
 tall and elegant, and resembled the portrait hanging in the 
 little sitting-room. The woman was fair and white-skinned, 
 and on her lips was a happy smile. H(^lfene followed them 
 
WILL. 105 
 
 with her eyes till they reached a thicket behind which 
 they disappeared, leaving the terrace mournful and deserted 
 as was now her life. 
 
 Old Madame H6rault had evoked from the past the black, 
 smoky factory, with the noise of its hammers as they 
 wrought the copper boilers, and, by the glare of the glow- 
 ing furnaces, she saw H6rault again, bare-armed and hair 
 glistening with copper dust, and she thought him handsome 
 with his fair moustache and the clear complexion of the 
 pure Normandy peasant. She had walked with him 
 through the meadows on the banks of the little river, in 
 the evenings, and under the influence of the springtime, 
 intoxicated by the perfume of the flowering hawthorn 
 hedgerows, they exchanged their first kiss. By what bitter 
 tears had that kiss been followed ! And now it was old 
 Gandon who was furious and mortified at the desertion of 
 his daughter, and who threatened to kill H^rault. How 
 many sleepless nights she had passed, weeping the burning 
 tears of sorrow, until at last the lady from the ch&teau had 
 entered the inn bringing vvith her the man who had caused 
 all this misery, and who had come to ask Gandon for 
 Fifine's hand. And from that time could be traced all 
 their happiness and prosperity. All was owing to the 
 kindly impulse of a noble-hearted woman, whose only 
 descendant was to-day poorer and more friendless than 
 had ever been the innkeeper's daughter. 
 
 " So you were born at the Chateau de Graville ? " 
 asked Madame Hdrault. " And your father was Monsieur 
 Henri." 
 
 " Yes, madame," answered H616ne in astonishment. " But 
 how could you have known that ? " 
 
106 WILL. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," returned the old woman, with melan- 
 choly pride, " when I was only a poor village sempstress, I 
 used to work at the ch&teau by the day, and I have often 
 danced your father on my knees. When I see you earning 
 your living in so precarious a way, when I think that per- 
 haps you and yours have known actual want, I feel the most 
 bitter grief and I reproach myself with the blackest ingrati- 
 tude for having left it to chance to bring me in your path." 
 
 " Pray do not concern yourself about me, madame," 
 interrupted H416ne. " I assure you that I want for nothing, 
 and, thanks to Heaven, I was able, by my work, to keep 
 my mother from want as long as she lived." 
 
 " You are a brave child, and I am very pleased to find 
 you as you are. But I owe everything to your family and 
 the little importance I possess is due to their goodness and 
 generosity. Your grandmother gave me the dowry which 
 enabled me to marry Monsieur Herault, and it was with that 
 money that he commenced the laborious task of amassing our 
 fortune. If we are rich now, it is only thanks to Madame 
 de Graville. Without her, Herault would have remained 
 a simple workman in a provincial factory, I should have 
 stayed with my father, our strength and activity would 
 not have been united, and not one of the enterprises, which 
 we have so successfully carried out, would have been even 
 attempted. You see, mademoiselle, that I am greatly 
 indebted to yours, and consequently to you, and my grati- 
 tude will be the more, if you will allow me to acquit 
 myself of my debt." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Graville crimsoned and drew back. She 
 did not understand very well at what Madame Herault was 
 aiming, and she feared an offer of money which would have 
 
WILL. 107 
 
 been most repugnant to her, an offer which would have 
 lowered her to the level of a beggar. Until now she had 
 earned her own living, and had asked aid from no one. 
 She felt hurt and humiliated and answered distantly — 
 
 " Madame, I am very glad my family was able to be of 
 some service to yours, but I cannot see that you have any 
 debt of which to acquit yourself. Keep your gifts for those 
 who are truly necessitous. I shall always earn more than I 
 want, as long as I can find work." 
 
 But old Madame H^rault at once understood what was in 
 H616ne's mind. She guessed the annoyance her words had 
 caused, and, wishing to dispel it, she approached the young 
 girl and affectionately took her hand. 
 
 " My dear, you must be indulgent towards an old woman 
 who only follows the promptings of her heart," she said 
 gently. " Do not fear that I am offering you money ; I 
 know with whom I have to deal. You are of a family 
 which gives but does not receive. But I am very old, and 
 I have no one but a grandson who often leaves me alone, 
 not from want of affection, but because he goes into society 
 a great deal and his time is filled by his engagements, and 
 so I am very solitary, and I have often regretted that 
 Heaven did not see fit to give me a grand-daughter, whp 
 would have remained with me and prevented me from 
 knowing the melancholy of loneliness. When I saw you, it 
 seemed to me that chance had given me the child I have so 
 often wished for, and I thought I could ask you to come 
 and continue the good part your parents played towards 
 me, and be, in your turn, my benefactress, by helping 
 me at the conclusion of my life, as they helped me at the 
 commencement. " 
 
108 WILL. 
 
 As she heard these kindly heartfelt words, the tears 
 sprang to H^lfene's eyes, and when Madame H6rault held 
 out her arms, she threw herself on the old lady's breast 
 without attempting to resist the impulse. 
 
 " Then you accept ? " exclaimed Madame H^rault, 
 joyfully. 
 
 Helfene freed herself from the embrace which seemed to 
 be already making her a prisoner, and, slowly shaking her 
 head, replied — 
 
 "I cannot yet give you an answer, madame. I am 
 deeply grateful for the kindness you are showing me, but I 
 wish to reflect and not to yield to the influence of a momen- 
 tary and sentimental impulse which we might both one day 
 regret. Do not be angry with me if I express myself freely 
 and tell you exactly what I think. I have for a long while 
 been subject to no one's will but my own, and in my habits 
 of independence I have perhaps acquired rather more deci- 
 sion of character than is becoming to a woman. What you 
 are at this moment asking me to do is to give up my liberty, 
 to renounce my modest but tranquil existence, to go and 
 live with you (who have every appearance of kindness, but 
 whom I do not know) in a world which seems to me full of 
 dangers and deceits. If I decided to do what you ask, it 
 would be very difficult for me to ever retrace my step. The 
 new habits I should form would make my poverty the more 
 hard to bear, and a change which I might now justly think 
 to be one for the better might only bring sorrow and dis- 
 couragement. Therefore, I must think it over, and must 
 weigh well the for and against. But whatever may be my 
 decision, once it is arrived at nothing will make me 
 change it." 
 
WILL. 109 
 
 " I see you have great strength of will," said Madame 
 H6rault, as she gazed at Hdl^ne with interest; "and it 
 surprises and delights me the more, because I never had. 
 I have always done as others have wished. During his life, 
 H^rault ruled the house ; I only saw that his orders were 
 carried out. After him my son took the reins into his own 
 hands, though it is true he held them more slackly than his 
 father, and I still obeyed. Now, Louis is the master, and 
 he has only to smile for me to anticipate his every caprice. 
 I am wrong to do so, I know. I ought to guide the weak, 
 frivolous-minded boy, instead of saying ' Very well ' to 
 everything he chooses to propose ; but what can I do '? 
 Fate seems to have decreed that the son shall be the 
 inferior, in all sterling qualities, of the father, and that 
 generally the fortune amassed by the grandfather shall be 
 dissipated by the grandson. Our trade, which used to be so 
 prosperous, is falling off for want of the impulse the master's 
 presence gives, and, as Monsieur H6rault so often said, a 
 fortune which is not augmenting is diminishing. I shall not 
 breathe freely as long as my grandson remains unmarried. 
 Without counting cards and racing, a bachelor always finds 
 plenty of unscrupulous women to help him squander his 
 money. But as soon as Louis marries I am sure he will 
 reform, for I know his gentle, kindly nature. He will 
 adore his wife, he will love his children, and he will resume 
 the direction of the factory instead of leaving it to a stupid 
 board of directors, and I shall be able to thank Heaven that 
 I have no longer any cause for uneasiness. But, in order to 
 obtain this happy result, I want someone near me to advise 
 and encourage me. I am very old, and there are many 
 things, of which I am ignorant, and which I have now no 
 
no WILL. 
 
 opportunity of learning : aid me with your diplomacy and 
 your tact. Bring yourself to see the good you can do, 
 and to understand that it is you who are rendering me a 
 service, instead of receiving one at my hands." 
 
 H^lfene made no answer as she stood by the window with 
 eyes abstractedly fixed on a ray of sunlight which was gild- 
 ing the leaves of her convolvulus. She saw the living 
 tendrils clung to the old house and imparted to it a charm 
 of youthful freshness, while, deprived of its adornment 
 of leaves and flowers, the black wall would present a 
 wretched and forbidding aspect. And to her mind there 
 came a sudden comparison between herself and the plant 
 she tended every day. Would not her sunny, graceful 
 youthfulness adorn this lonely hearth, as did the tender, 
 delicate, convolvulus the rugged wall ? Fate seemed to 
 have placed her near the solitary, melancholy old woman, 
 that she might only have to stretch out her arms to enfold 
 her in their embrace, and become at once her protection and 
 her joy. 
 
 Then there passed before her eyes the elegant, graceful 
 form of Louis in his mourning garments as he crossed the 
 courtyard at stated hours, when he lived with his old 
 grandmother employing his time as would a model son. 
 Would it, indeed, be possible to have, as Madame H6rault 
 had said, a favourable influence over this young man's life, 
 and to aid his grandmother in her efforts to tear him from 
 the bad society which lured him from his home? What 
 likeness was there between the impudent fool who had 
 followed her the evening before, accompanied by his dark, 
 proud-looking friend, and the gentle, thoughtful orphan she 
 had so often watched from her window 1 Was not his 
 
WILL. Ill 
 
 companion his evil genius 1 If only she could dispute this 
 latter's sway, restore Louis to reason and wisdom, and 
 transform him from a blasd, useless spendthrift, to a vigorous, 
 clever, hardworking man ! But for whose profit would she 
 be accomplishing this work of salvation 1 Some girl would 
 make her appearance who would become engaged to Louis 
 and eventually marry him. The grandmother had said, 
 " Once he is married, I shall be able to breathe freely." 
 Who, then, was the woman who would one day take the 
 name of Madame H6rault and assure the future of the 
 whole family ? 
 
 To this question a secret voice whispered the answer in 
 H^l^ne's ear. 
 
 " It will be you," it said. " You have only to deter- 
 mine, and your life will be changed. Perhaps you would 
 be happier if you remained poor, but the combat of life 
 calls you to this post, and you cannot refuse to perform 
 your duty. It is you who will be the protection of this 
 house, who will defend and save it. The task will not be 
 accomplished without cruel suffering and bitter tears. But 
 it is your duty, it wUl be to your credit to undertake it and 
 it will be your pride when it is finished.'' 
 
 Helfene trembled. It seemed as if an invisible being 
 were beside her, counselling and encouraging her. Dis- 
 tinctly she heard the word pronounced which seemed her 
 motto : " Will ! Will ! " She glanced nervously around, 
 and it was only when she saw she was alone in her room 
 with old Madame H^rault that she understood it was her 
 own heart which had spoken to her. 
 
 " Well, my dear child," said the old lady kindly, " you 
 have been meditating for the last five minutes, and your 
 
112 WILL. 
 
 thoughts were a long way away from me, were they not 1 
 I will not take advantage of your good iiature and tire you 
 with my presence, but will you let me go away without 
 giving me the slightest hope ? " 
 
 A bright smile lighted up Helfene's pretty face as she held 
 out her hand to Madame Herault. 
 
 " Leave me the work you brought me,'' she said ; " from 
 to-day I shall devote myself to it entirely. My needle and 
 my thoughts will work together, and each stitch will seem 
 to bind me closer to you. But, whUe I am arriving at 
 a decision, consult your family on your plan, for, if I enter 
 your household, it shall not be as an intruder, and I will 
 meet only friendly looks and outstretched hands. When I 
 have finished this embroidery I wUl bring it to you, and, if 
 you have not changed your mind, if my decision agrees 
 with yours, we will begin to talk about the future." 
 
 Madame H6rault gravely bowed her head in approval, 
 then, placing her arm around the young girl's waist, she 
 affectionately kissed her and said in a trembling voice — 
 
 " Work quickly, so as not to keep me too long in 
 suspense." 
 
 Then, accompanied to the outer door by Mademoiselle de 
 GraVille, she took her leave. 
 
 That very morning, when Louis came down to lunch, 
 looking pale and out of spirits, Madame H6rault enthusias- 
 tically described her visit. He listened in silence, hardly 
 hearing what she said. His thoughts were far away from 
 the Eaubourg Poissonifere, for he could not keep them from 
 wandering to a certain house in the Avenue Gabriel. He 
 saw a smooth-faced man silently enter a room on the first 
 floor in whose window shone a light. A woman, in a 
 
WILL. 113 
 
 dainty dishalilU, welcomed him with a smile, and taking 
 her in his arms he pressed her to his breast. By the soft 
 light of the lamp, Louis could see the wealth of golden 
 hair half covering the exquisite shoulders, the lovely face 
 animated by a rapturous smile, and the irresistible charm 
 in the glance of the azure eyes. And it was the same 
 sea of gold which had enveloped him in its perfumed 
 waves, the same smile which had bewitched him, and the 
 same glance which had thrilled his very soul. He had 
 encircled these shoulders with his arm, the red lips had 
 been pressed to his mouth. Then, how came this man 
 there ? And what infamous deception must this woman 
 practise — this woman of whom he could not even yet think 
 without a quiver of love ! 
 
 Madame H^rault, mistaking her grandson's pre-occupa- 
 tion for attention, continued her narrative — 
 
 " I have asked her to come and live with me and never 
 leave me again. I hope you wiU not disapprove of the 
 arrangement, should she accept ? " 
 
 He attached no more importance to the question than if 
 they had been discussing the engagement of a lady com- 
 panion, and replied — 
 
 " I am ready to agree to anything which will give you 
 pleasure, grandmother." 
 
 Madame H^rault gleefully clapped her hands and kissed 
 her grandson. 
 
 " That is very nice of you indeed ! " she exclaimed, " I was 
 afraid you might not like the introduction of a stranger — " 
 
 He shook his head, and again gave way to his gloomy 
 thoughts. After lunch he went up to his own rooms, 
 which occupied the whole second floor of the mansion, and 
 
 H 
 
114 WILL. 
 
 passed two hours stretched on a couch in the smoking- 
 room, trying to benumb his brain with opiated cigarettes, 
 without arriving at any other result than that of stimulating 
 his imagination. The exasperating, voluptuous image of 
 this adorable, golden-haired woman in the arms of her noc- 
 turnal visitor was constantly before his eyes, and he groaned 
 with anger and jealousy as he thought of the happiness en- 
 joyed by the detestable Lereboulley. In his excitement his 
 mind gave birth to ideas that were mad and impracticable. 
 
 " I am young and I am as rich as he is," he thought, 
 " and why should she not be mine t If she wants money 
 she can have it.. No doubt she would play over again the 
 abominable comedy of which I was the dupe last night ; 
 she is quite ready to do so, for she expects to see me to-day, 
 at this very hour. She would not hesitate to tell Lere- 
 boulley a falsehood for me, and she would tell me falsehoods 
 for others !" 
 
 He burst into a mirthless laugh, and striking a little 
 table with such force that he broke it — 
 
 " Her smile, her glance, her golden hair are at the dis- 
 posal of the highest bidder ! " he exclaimed. " No, then ! 
 I will not have them ! A hundred times no ! A thousand 
 times no ! I will not be duped and ridiculed by her ! She 
 shall laugh at me with no one ! " 
 
 He was now pacing the room, and as he passed the 
 mantlepiece he stopped to look at the clock and saw it was 
 four o'clock. He rang for his servant, ordered his carriage 
 and dressed himself At five o'clock he went out and drove 
 to the Cercle Imperial, where he was nearly sure of meet- 
 ing Lereboulley and Thauziat, and where he was within a 
 hundred yards of Lady Olifaunt's house, for in vain had he 
 
WILL. 115 
 
 sworn to think of Diana no more, ho came where he could 
 meet her lover, and lay in wait almost at the corner of her 
 abode. 
 
 It was a beautiful day; the sun and warmth had 
 attracted an enormous throng to the Champs-Elys^es, 
 and the Eue Eoyale was crowded with pedestrians hasten- 
 ing to enjoy the spring afternoon. The rooms of the club 
 were almost empty, the card-tables all but deserted, for 
 most of the members were in the garden which, in the 
 form of a terrace, overlooks the whole of the Place de la 
 Concorde and makes of this little corner one of the most 
 agreeable observatories in Paris. There, there was a red 
 and white striped tent, filled with easy chairs which were 
 nearly all occupied by men who were talking and smoking. 
 The air was fiUed^with the fresh smell of leaves and flowers, 
 the tent formed a shelter from the oblique rays of the set- 
 ting sun, and there was a delicious sense of comfort to rest 
 the nerves and calm the thought. 
 
 Louis threaded his way through the groups with a shake 
 of the hand here and a nod there, towards the stone balus- 
 trade which runs along the side of the terrace, and there 
 leant, watching, with unseeing eyes, the carriages which 
 were going -towards the Bois while he smoked one cigarette 
 after another, unable to think and only conscious of a feel- 
 ing of utter bitterness in the depths of his heart. He had 
 been there about half-an-hour when a hand was laid upon 
 his shoulder, and turning round he saw before him Lere- 
 boulley, his face beaming with smiles. A footman brought 
 a garden seat for the senator, and the big man dropped 
 heavily into it and wiped his forehead on which the drops 
 of perspiration were standing out. 
 
116 WILL. 
 
 " It's tremendously hot," he said. " I've been walking 
 in obedience to my doctor's orders, and, although I have on 
 light things, I am all in a perspiration." 
 
 Louis looked at Lereboulley. Emilie's father was dressed 
 with aU the care of a lady-kiUer. Under the coat which 
 fitted tightly to his huge figure he wore a white piqu6 
 waist-coat, and his enormous legs were encased in light grey 
 trousers, between which and his patent leather shoes could 
 be seen silk socks embroidered with little flowers. A blue 
 necktie with white spots was negligently knotted beneath 
 his triple chin, and on his head was a white hat with a 
 black band. As he sat he rested both hands on the finely 
 chased gold knob of his cane. 
 
 "Have you seen Thauziat to-day?" he asked, lighting a 
 cigar. 
 
 "No," answered Louis. 
 
 " I have been talking to him a long while this morning," 
 continued the senator, " about a big affair they want me to 
 go into, and on which I wanted his opinion. You know 
 how clear-sighted he is ; when he has thoroughly studied a 
 project and thinks it practicable, one can embark upon it 
 without any hesitation. I never met anyone who sees 
 through things so well as that fellow. Now, as the specula- 
 tion in question is considerable and complicated — " 
 
 *' How does all this concern me ? " interrupted Louis 
 abruptly, as he heard the man he would have liked to 
 strangle calmly talking business to him. 
 
 "How? Why, in every way! You and I have some 
 interests in common, my dear fellow, and these interests 
 would be seriously involved. I cannot conclude anything 
 without you — " 
 
WILL. 117 
 
 " I am not in the humour to discuss anything of moment 
 just now," said Louis roughly. 
 
 " Still, I daresay you will do me the favour of listening 
 to me. The plan is likely to turn out a perfect gold-mine, 
 thanks to which you will be able to repair the breaches 
 you have made in your fortune. In short, the idea is to 
 establish a transatlantic cable between France and America, 
 so that we should no longer have to pay the English for the 
 use of theirs. A large American company is being formed, 
 and we are to form the French company, guarantee the 
 capital for the working of the scheme and provide the 
 cable. That is where you come in, with the factory at 
 Saint-Denis to contribute to the materialistic part of the 
 plan. Set going the copper-beaters and wire-drawers ! 
 There'-s work to be~3one." 
 
 "Veryrwell! I will have an estimate prepared at the 
 office." ' 
 
 LerelK«aaile2jlooked.mp and carefully examined-+}Ki joviiis' 
 man with Ms piercing eyesT" 
 
 " What iii the matter with you 1 " he asked. " You are 
 not in yoj^usual form to-day." 
 
 " My*^ aches—" 
 
 " OTrWR ! Eesult of last night's ball. Still we went 
 away almost at the same time and you see I am as fresh 
 and lively as ever, though I am an old man ! " 
 
 And putti^Tg^ up his eyeglass, he looked complacently at 
 the rose he wore in his buttonhole. 
 
 " Perhaps you passed a more enjoyable night than I did," 
 said Louis, with a sarcastic smile. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked Lereboulley, with a touch 
 of uneasiness. 
 
118 WILL. 
 
 " Nothing which is unlikely," returned Louis. " We all 
 know about your morals, and I wouldn't mind betting you 
 didn't go straight home when you left us this morning." 
 
 " I wouldn't take the bet," said LerebouUey, foppishly. 
 " You would be too likely to win it." 
 
 " And of course it was a woman in society 1 " questioned 
 Louis. 
 
 " Not only in society, but in the very best society. I do 
 not know if you are the same, but for my part I can't stand 
 demi-monde now. In times gone by, I wasn't particular j as 
 long as the woman was pretty I didn't ask for anything 
 else. Then I began to want more. I would have style 
 and education and the appearance of belonging to society. 
 I did not demand the absolute reality — " ^^ 
 
 " So long as you had a half-caste." j^ 
 
 " Now, everything must be authentic. I must 'oe sure 
 that nothing is false — neither name nor position. '- That is 
 "my tMrdTStjJfiJ" - __^ .-^ 
 
 " You should take care, dBSr^boy; Some plafted ware is 
 so very like the real silver." 
 
 LerebouUey smiled, and answered with a|-*i'J»ccent of 
 pride — ^ ^■ 
 
 " Oh, I go upon sure grounds. My silvei^Sili'°^all- 
 marked." 
 
 He stopped abruptly. A victoria was rapidly descending 
 the Eue Boissy d'Anglais, drawn by two VLgh-stepping 
 horses. Everything about the equipage , was appointed 
 with perfect elegance from the white liveries' of the footmen 
 to the red rosettes at the horses' ears and the steel chains 
 which jingled at every step. Attired in a black dress, 
 which set off to perfection the fresh colour of her com- 
 
WILL. 119 
 
 plexion and her glittering hair, Lady Olifaunt lay back 
 among the cushions, a bright smile upon her face. As they 
 passed beneath the terrace over which the two men were 
 leaning, the coachman slightly drew in his horses as if by 
 a flattering chance, and Louis turned pale at this sudden 
 apparition of the woman who haunted his thoughts and 
 tortured his heart. A frown gathered on his forehead, 
 and, stroking his fair moustache with a nervous hand, he 
 remained leaning on his elbow, while the blood rushed 
 through his veins, his breathing came short and quick, 
 and he longed to insult Diana as he looked at her. 
 
 LerebouUey had risen in delight, a look of pride upon his 
 face. He did indeed experience a sensation of immense 
 satisfaction. This beautiful woman, of whom he was so 
 proud, had come to pass before the eyes of her lord and 
 master, and to render him a secret homage. The embodi- 
 ment of charm, splendour, and brilliance, which was then 
 at his feet, was his ; he had only to make a sign and the 
 carriage would stop, he could take his place beside the 
 lovely Diana, and so drive through Paris. But the mys- 
 tery which surrounded their relations seemed a great deal 
 more charming to him than any public display of his happi- 
 ness, and he delighted to think of himself as a modern 
 Jupiter visiting in secret a nineteenth century Danae. The 
 little comedy he had to play gave a peculiar interest to his 
 love. Each time he paid an evening visit to Lady Olifaunt, 
 the perspiration stood on his forehead as he imagined Sir 
 James appearing in a doorway with a revolver in his hand 
 ready to avenge his honour, although he knew that the 
 gentleman lived amidst a luxury of the origin of which he 
 could not be ignorant. But that didn't matter. Diana 
 
120 WILL. 
 
 had told him that her husband was a man ready to call any- 
 one out at a moment's notice, and he feared him as a burnt 
 child does fire. But for the time being he had nothing 
 to fear, and he could enjoy his triumphant happiness in 
 peace. He was so fascinated by the spectacle before him as 
 he leant over and raised his white hat, that he did not 
 notice that Louis, after just putting his hand to the brim of 
 his hat, turned away his head, and looked studiously in 
 the direction of the garden. 
 
 Lady Olifaunt touched the coachman's shoulder with the 
 end of her parasol, and — 
 
 " Stop," she said briefly. 
 
 Carelessly leaning with his back against the balustrade, 
 Louis waited, watching Diana's every movement from the 
 corner of his eye. He guessed it was for him she had 
 stopped her carriage and not for Lereboulley, who was 
 puffed up with delight and conceit. He had seen the 
 pleased look which had spread over Lady Olifaunt's face 
 when she saw him with the senator, then her surprise when 
 he had hardly raised his hat to her, and lastly her anger 
 when he seemed determined to pay no attention to 
 her. Sitting perfectly erect, her brows knitted, her lips 
 tightened, she fixed her eyes on him, and with an air of ill- 
 temper — 
 
 " Why have you not been to see me to-day 1" she asked 
 imperiously. 
 
 Louis did not move and made no answer. Lereboulley, 
 after a glance at his silent companion, took the question to 
 himself, and replied in astonishment — 
 
 " But was it arranged that you should wait for me, dear 
 madame 1 Pray forgive me, I had forgotten it." 
 
WILL. 121 
 
 " I am not addressing myself to you," returned Diana, 
 with unwonted impertinence ; " but to Monsieur Hdrault." 
 
 It seemed to Lereboulley that the earth trembled beneath 
 him and that the sky became the colour of lead. He stared 
 at his mistress and his friend with eyes which surprise 
 opened to twice their usual size, and amidst the ringing in 
 his ears he heard the following words exchanged between 
 Lady Olifaunt and Louis — 
 
 " It was impossible for me to come,'' answered the young 
 man at last. " I have been too occupied." 
 
 " About something of great importance no doubt '! And 
 shall I see you this evening 1 " 
 
 "JSTot probably." 
 
 " To-morrow ? " 
 
 "I do not think so." 
 
 "Kever, then?" 
 
 " 'Never." 
 
 " Will you explain to me what this conduct signifies ? " 
 
 " No, madame, it would be useless." 
 
 And he bowed and stepped back so that he could not be 
 seen from the Place. He heard Diana give an exclamation 
 of anger, then say — 
 
 " Drive on. To the Bois." 
 
 And the victoria turned the corner of the avenue and 
 rolled smoothly and swiftly away. 
 
 Lereboulley was still in the same place. Thoughts of the 
 most opposite and violent nature were passing through his 
 mind. First he told himself that Diana had deceived him 
 and that she and H^rault had just been shameless enough 
 to break with one another there before him. Then he tried 
 to discover in the past some proof of the intimacy between 
 
122 WILL. 
 
 Louis and the golden-haired Englishwoman, but he could 
 find none. Then was Lady Olifaunt throwing herself at 
 the young man's head, and was the latter refusing the 
 honour offered him 1 But if so why did they not conceal 
 their intentions from him t Could they not have had in 
 secret the interview they had had in public ? The evening 
 before, at Count Wor^seflf's ball, Diana had had a long talk 
 with Louis, then why these sudden words, so imperious on 
 her side, so rough on his 1 And, above all, why had they 
 been spoken in his presence 1 If Diana had been seeking 
 an excuse and an opportunity for throwing him over, she 
 could not have acted otherwise. And this man who was 
 so decided and clear-sighted in the office at his bank, this 
 large-minded, liberal politician became weak as a child in 
 the hands of the woman he loved. 
 
 He went up to Louis who had found a chair and was 
 smoking in silence, and said with entreaty in both look 
 and voice — 
 
 "My dear fellow, pray tell me what is going on, and 
 the cause of this sudden quarrel between Lady Olifaunt 
 and yourself? Why her persistence and your rudeness ?" 1 
 
 Louis raised his head and quietly replied, for his anger 
 had entirely vanished — 
 
 "Forgive me, but by what right do you demand an 
 explanation from me? I do not think Lady Olifaunt's 
 secrets can concern you. You are not her husband, as far 
 as I know, and, unless you are her lover — " 
 
 " Louis ! " exclaimed Lereboulley, holding out his hands 
 in a gesture of supplication. "Louis, do not speak so 
 lightly of a woman's honour ! " 
 
 "J was not speaking of anything at all," answered 
 
WILL. 123 
 
 H^rault. " It was you who were questioning me, and on 
 matters of the utmost delicacy. I am ready to reply to 
 your questions, but only on the condition that you show 
 me you have some right to ask them. You are neither her 
 husband nor her lover, then who are you 1 And why do 
 you question me 1 " 
 
 For a moment the senator was undecided what to re- 
 spond. Then summoning up his courage, he said with 
 many hesitations and repetitions : 
 
 " I am particularly interested in the woman with whom 
 you just now exchanged such strange words. You must 
 know that I have promised to watch over her, and I fulfil 
 this duty with a devoted and affectionate care. Do not 
 begin to imagine things which do not exist. Suppose, for 
 instance, that she is my ward — yes, my ward ! Then have 
 I not the right to ask you why you refused when she asked 
 you to visit her ? What secret tie is there between you ? 
 I entreat you to answer me. Do so even if I have not con- 
 vinced you of my right to question you. Do so for the sake 
 of our long friendship." 
 
 Louis felt sorry for LerebouUey as he saw him thus 
 tortured, with his hands trembling, his forehead bathed in 
 perspiration and lips hardly able to articulate his words. 
 
 " This is to what that creature can reduce the most 
 energetic and clever men," he thought. " Simply to 
 beings devoid of pride or courage. Should I have been 
 the same ? Would she have made me her slave, as she has 
 made this man ? It is only by good luck that I have escaped 
 her, for I was already losing both my senses and my heart, 
 and if she had been mine what should I have become, and 
 how great would have been her power over me ! " 
 
124 WILL. 
 
 " Well, then, my dear Lereboulley," he said calmly, 
 "there is a little quarrel between Lady Olifaunt and 
 myself. Yesterday evening, at Count Wor^sefif's, she 
 treated me with a coolness which vexed me a good deal, 
 and I let her see my displeasure. That roused her anger 
 and she commanded me, as if she were a queen, to go to 
 her house to-day to apologise. As I did not think I owed 
 her any apology, I did not obey her command, and thence 
 her resentment." 
 
 The senator's face cleared. 
 
 " And is that all 1 " he asked. " You are not deceiving 
 me ? Lady Olifaunt is a very pretty and very seductive 
 woman, and every man in society has hung, is hanging, or 
 will hang around her. I have watched all their tactics, but 
 never have I seen Diana so put out. To-day I saw some- 
 thing in her face, her attitude, her words, which was quite 
 new to me. Come, Louis, on your word of honour, you 
 are not her lover 1 " 
 
 All his anxiety had returned as he enumerated the 
 reasons for his suspicions, and his last words sounded 
 almost like a prayer. Louis tried to reassure him 
 completely. 
 
 " Upon my honour, I am not, and have not been her 
 lover." 
 
 " Ah ! my dear boy ! " 
 
 The senator took the young man in his arms, and pressed 
 him to his heart in a transport of gratitude. Louis dis- 
 engaged himself, with a laugh, and looking at the old 
 man; 
 
 "I say, Lereboulley," he said, "could you say the 
 same 1 " 
 
WILL. 125 
 
 The question was so unexpected that the senator was 
 thoroughly taken aback. He started and changed colour, 
 looked round to see that no one was within earshot, and 
 then indignantly protested : 
 
 "What can you be thinking of? After what I have 
 told you, could you suppose — " 
 
 "That is just what I could do, after what you have 
 told me." 
 
 " No, no. I should be exceedingly grieved if I thought 
 
 you imagined Heavens ! One must know how to 
 
 respect a woman's reputation." 
 
 "Yes, you have a great respect for it, haven't you, 
 when you go in at her garden door at three o'clock in the 
 morning to pay her a visit." 
 
 Lereboulley was stupefied. 
 
 " Wbat ? I r' he whispered. 
 
 "Yes, you, this very night, after you left Wordseflf's 
 house. Thauziat and I were walking down the Champs 
 Elys^^s, and you were on in front of us, strutting along 
 with the air of a vanquisher. We saw you go into a house 
 in the Avenue — " 
 
 " Hush ! " interrupted the senator. " It wasn't for what 
 you believe — " 
 
 " Then what was it for ? Were you going to talk to 
 Sir James 1 " 
 
 " Devil take the boy ! Don't mention any names, I 
 implore you ; think what a serious matter it is. If anyone 
 suspected — " 
 
 " Why, half Paris does suspect it, and the other half is 
 sure of it ! " 
 
 Lereboulley frowned. 
 
126 WILL. 
 
 " I do not believe what you are telling me, and I should 
 be very much annoyed if I did think it was true. But, 
 since you caught me in the act, I am forced to own up to 
 you — Thauziat knew all about it a long while ago. You 
 see what discretion and care I employ, but then a woman 
 who is really in society is in question. The best people go 
 to her house and she is invited everywhere. She is so 
 charming. I have known dozens of women, but I have 
 never met her equal. You see, my boy, I know how to 
 appreciate happiness when I find it. I am an old warrior 
 in love's army, and Diana is my marshall's bdton.'' 
 
 " It must have cost you very dear to get it, and more to 
 keep it." 
 
 " But she has money of her own ! " cried Lereboulley. 
 " She has estates in America, which she inherited from her 
 father, on which there are mines." 
 
 "Yes, one can always understand that Diana has gold- 
 mines to dip into, as your daughter says." 
 
 The senator's face clouded. 
 
 " There you touch on one of the most painful points of 
 my position. My daughter detests Lady Olifaunt, and her 
 behaviour towards her causes me much annoyance. You 
 know how dearly I love Emilie — I have never married 
 again solely on her account — but I think she ought to 
 understand that there are certain things in the life of a 
 father, who after all is free to do as he likes, to which she 
 ought to close her eyes." 
 
 " You cannot expect her to be like a sister to Lady 
 Olifaunt." 
 
 "No, but I could expect her not to use her sarcasm 
 against her as she does. I no longer dare invite Diana and 
 
WILL. 127 
 
 her husband to my house, for I am trembling all the time 
 for fear of what my daughter might say. Sir James is a 
 terrible man, and it is no laughing matter with him when 
 his honour is ia question. Besides he is a splendid shot." 
 
 Louis began to laugh — 
 
 "I am a better shot than he is. If ever he seeks a 
 quarrel with you, send him to me." 
 
 "The devil! No!" cried LerebouUey. "Then there 
 would be something else to be considered — I should have 
 to marry his widow ! " 
 
 They were both very merry by this time, for the senator 
 was delighted at being able to parade his happiness without 
 having to reproach himself with indiscretion, and Louis, 
 with the inconsistency of his nature, was already congratu- 
 lating himself on having avoided an intrigue, which, he 
 vaguely foresaw, would have been fraught with dangers 
 and embarrassment. 
 
 The setting sun was crimsoning' the avenue with its last 
 rays, and the carriages returning to Paris formed one con- 
 tinual stream. The terrace was now deserted and the two 
 men went indoors, LerebouUey leaning familiarly on Louis' 
 arm. As they entered they met Thauziat, who could not 
 repress a movement of surprise at seeing them thus arm in 
 arm and cast a questioning glance at Louis. 
 
 " Now we have met Clement, let us all three go to Lady 
 Olifaunt's to dinner," said LerebouUey to Louis, as if he 
 wished to satisfy Thauziat's curiosity himself " She will 
 be delighted to see us, and I will make peace between you. 
 It will pain me if you remain at variance ; one must always 
 be on good terms with a pretty woman. After dinner we 
 can talk about the cable ; is it agreed ? " 
 
128 WILL. 
 
 " No. Thauziat and I are not free. We are engaged for 
 this evening." 
 
 " Ah, you bear malice, Louis," said the senator shaking 
 his head. " That isn't right." 
 
 Then he shook hands with the two young men and went 
 off 
 
 " Why didn't you do as he proposed, when he seemed so 
 set upon it ? " said Thauziat to his friend. 
 
 " Because what I have learned since yesterday has quite 
 changed my opinions, and I do not wish to have anything 
 to do with Diana." 
 
 Clement looked hard at Louis and saw that he was quite 
 calm and unmoved. 
 
 " Ah ? So much the better," he replied. " She isn't the 
 woman for you." 
 
 They dined, went to the Ambassadeurs, found pleasure in 
 listening to a few stupid songs and, towards midnight, 
 returned to the club, where they commenced playing for 
 heavy stakes. At one o'clock, Thauziat went home leaving 
 Louis winning everything he ventured, and at three o'clock 
 the heir to the house of H^rault returned to the Faubourg 
 Poissoni^re, heavy-headed though not sad-hearted, and the 
 gainer of two thousand louis. 
 
 For a whole week he led a life calculated to completely 
 change the course of his thoughts, and to turn them from 
 the beautiful Englishwoman. He took care never to be 
 alone, so as to have no leisure for thinking of her whom he 
 was not yet quite sure he no longer loved. He rose late, 
 lunched with Thauziat, went to races, dined at the club 
 and then played the greater part of the night. He only 
 left the card-table when thoroughly overcome by fatigue, 
 
WILL. 129 
 
 and thus assured himself a heavy, dreamless sleep. For 
 seven days he lived thus away from his home, and all that 
 time his grandmother did not see him once. But at the 
 end of the week, his conscience pricked him as he thought 
 of how he had left the poor old woman alone. It happened 
 to be Monday, an evening on which Emilie never came to 
 dine with Madame H(^rault, as it was her father's "at 
 home " day, so Louis knew there would be no one to speak 
 to him about Diana. He reached home at seven o'clock, 
 and went straight into the drawing-room. The lamps had 
 not yet been lighted and the heavy curtains left the large 
 room in semi-darkness. He saw a woman seated with her 
 back towards him at the little table, surrounded by a screen, 
 at which Madame H6rault always worked, and without 
 waiting to see more he went up to her, and said gaily : 
 
 " Good evening, grandmother." 
 
 But, as soon as the words had left his lips, he uttered an 
 exclamation of surprise. The woman had risen in grace- 
 ful confusion, and, instead of a wrinkled face and bent 
 shoulders, presented to his gaze a youthful countenance and 
 charming figure. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," he said, bowing.' "Pray excuse 
 my stupidity and do not let me disturb you." 
 
 The girl he was addressing made a slight sign with her 
 hand, as if to signify that there was no need for any further 
 apology, and, with a slight inclination of her head, she was 
 about to leave the room, when Madame H6rault, preceding 
 a servant carrying lights, opened the drawing-room door — 
 
 "Ah, is it you, my dear child?" she cried, hastening 
 towards her grandson. " How good of you to come ! " 
 
 And not one word of reproach for his prolonged absence 
 
130 WILL. 
 
 did Louis receive, only kisses and looks expressive of 
 delight. 
 
 When she had recovered from the surprise her grandson's 
 appearance had caused her, the old lady noticed the slight 
 embarrassment of the two young people, and clasping her 
 withered hands together, 
 
 "How stupid of me!" she said. "I had forgotten. 
 You do not know Mademoiselle Hfl^ne, and you, my dear, 
 do not know my grandson j" and drawing up her little 
 figure, she continued ceremoniously : 
 
 "Mademoiselle, my grandson, Louis H6rault-Gaudon ; 
 my child. Mademoiselle H61fene de Graville.'' 
 
 In an instant, all the events of the previous week 
 returned to Louis' memory. He remembered the young 
 girl Thauziat and he had followed to the house, the ques- 
 tions he had put to old Anselme and Madame H6rault's 
 emotion when she heard this name G-raville, which recalled 
 so vividly the bygone days. He heard his grandmother 
 telling about her visit to H616ne, and, all fluttered by the 
 joy of her discovery, asking his permission to offer a home 
 to the descendant of her benefactors. In the hurry and 
 bustle of his life during the past few days he had forgotten 
 the episode, and now he suddenly saw before him the heroine 
 of it all. The frankness of her glance, the serious firmness 
 of her mouth, the bright intelligence of her brow all pleased 
 him. Her dark complexion gave her a somewhat sombre, 
 melancholy air, and in everyway she formed the most com- 
 plete contrast to the delicacy, the brightness, and the fair- 
 ness of Diana. Her severe grace charmed him from the 
 first moment, and he set her down as a quiet, thoughtful, 
 agreeable girl, in whose society he should find much 
 
WILL. 131 
 
 pleasure. He bent towards her, and, holding out his hand 
 with courteous friendliness, said : 
 
 " You are very welcome, mademoiselle, and you must 
 permit me to thank you for the kindness you have shown 
 in acceding to my grandmother's wishes. You have my 
 sincere gratitude for so doing, and I hope you will consider 
 this house as your home." 
 
 H^lfene bowed her head, with a smile which displayed her 
 white teeth, placed her hand in the young man's and 
 answered in her low-pitched voice, which to Louis' ears 
 sounded at once serious and musical — 
 
 " Thank you very much for your kind reception. I 
 promise you I will love your grandmother as if she were 
 my own." 
 
 Then they both felt a sudden agitation which made them 
 turn from one another, and they said no more. 
 
 Dinner was despatched almost in silence. All three were 
 watching each other. Madame H^rault was trying to dis- 
 cover from Louis' face the impression H61fene had given 
 him, and Louis was looking at Mademoiselle de Graville, 
 whose attitude was one of perfect tranquillity and correct- 
 ness. Ifot a sentence escaped her Ups but was natural and 
 full of tact. In one day this girl had again become in 
 Madame H6rault's house what she had been in her mother's 
 before their ruin. Her good education protected her from 
 all ridicule, as does a tried coat of mail from every dagger- 
 thrust, and she felt at ease and sure of herself 
 
 She noticed, with sorrow, Louis' paleness and the dark 
 circles which the late hours he had recently kept had drawn 
 around his eyes. She saw that he was grave and pre- 
 occupied, and she imagined he had some secret trouble. 
 
132 WILL, 
 
 never dreaming that at this moment the young man's 
 thoughts were occupied solely with herself, and that, with 
 his natural light-heartedness, he had already dismissed from 
 his mind every cause of sorrow and annoyance. 
 
 When they returned to the drawing-room, H61fene poured 
 out the coffee without waiting for Madame H^rault to ask 
 her to do so, and the latter, as she sat by her grandson, 
 gave herself up to the pleasure of seeing the sweet-faced 
 girl render her the little, affectionate services of which she 
 had been so often deprived. She was proud of having sought 
 her out, and happy that she had been able to attract her to 
 her home ; it seemed to her that H61fene was in some way 
 her creation, and that some of her charm was reflected on 
 herself. She wished to tell Louis of every accomplishment 
 of her protegee's, and taking from a side-table the piece of 
 China crape which had served as a pretext for her visit to 
 Mademoiselle de Graville, she triumphantly showed it 
 marvellously repaired — 
 
 " She embroiders with the fingers of a fairy," she said, as 
 she"handled the bright^coloured material ; " she sings and 
 plays the piano with wonderful taste, and if you only knew 
 how she reads ! " 
 
 "If she does not dislike the smell of tobacco-smoke,'' 
 said Louis, " I shall proclaim her a paragon." 
 
 "Will you allow this bad boy to smoke just one little 
 cigarette, Hdlfene dearl" said Madame H^rault to Made- 
 moiselle de Graville, who was sitting at the other side of 
 the room, looking at an illustrated paper. 
 
 H^l^ne rose and brought the little cigar-lighter which 
 was on a table — 
 
 " My father always smoked," she said simply ; " and I 
 do not mind the smell of tobacco in the least." 
 
WILL. 133 
 
 She returned to her seat, and only joined in the conversa- 
 tion when Madame H6rault addressed some question or 
 remark to her. The evening passed remarkably quickly 
 and Louis was surprised to find it was eleven o'clock, when 
 to him it seemed as if they had just left table. He said 
 good-night to Mademoiselle de Graville, kissed his grand- 
 mother, and, without even thinking of going to the club, 
 went up to his room, undressed and slept as he had not 
 done for weeks. 
 
 The next day he lunched with the two ladies and 
 returned to dine with them. For a whole week he did the 
 same, and Madame H6rault, in her delight, thought that 
 with H61fene happiness had again entered the house. 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 After three days, Cldment de Thauziat began to wonder at 
 the disappearance of his friend and to scent a mystery. 
 He was accustomed to Louis' fickleness, but this sudden 
 retreat after so violent a shock announced an important 
 alteration in the young man's ideas. He soon came to the 
 conclusion that Diana's lover had gone in quest of some 
 gallant diversion, and, as he was not curious, he did not 
 trouble to find out what had become of his satellite. He 
 wanted to go to Brussels to look into the working of a 
 company of which Lereboulley and he were directors, so he 
 set off, and, lingering on the way, did not get back to Paris 
 until the end of the week; then as he had to tell the 
 senator the result of his mission, he went to Lady Olifaunt's 
 at about five o'clock on the day of his return. 
 
 The mansion occupied by Diana was a pretty house with 
 its front entrance in the Avenue Gabriel, and the back 
 overlooking the garden whose little door Lereboulley found 
 so easy to open at night. This charming abode, rented at 
 fifty thousand francs a year, had been built for the beauti- 
 ful Miss Howard when Prince Louis Napoleon was at the 
 Elys6e, and within its limited space it contained everything 
 the most luxurious refinement could demand. The whole 
 of the ground-floor was occupied by the reception-rooms, 
 Diana's apartments being on the floor above, while Sir 
 James's were in a wing built at right angles to the other 
 
WILL. 135 
 
 part of the house. A stone staircase, with a balustrade of 
 porphyry columns and velvet-covered hand-rail and lighted 
 by a hanging lamp of gilded bronze, led from the hall to 
 the gallery on to which the drawing-rooms opened. 
 
 The interior had been decorated with exquisite taste. 
 The furniture was elegant though quiet. The old silk 
 hangings of the boudoir, the tapestry from designs by 
 Teniers in the billiard-room, the Louis XIII. Cordovan 
 leather which adorned the dining-room offered a variety of 
 styles in perfect accordance with the particular character 
 each room should have. The bedroom, which was preceded 
 by a Pompadour boudoir where the marvels of the rocaille 
 style charmed the eye, was hung with a magnificent helio- 
 trope material woven with silver flowers, the soft colouring 
 of which lent a yet more seductive brilliancy to Diana's 
 complexion. Beside the Eenaissance bed — of ebony inlaid 
 with mother-of-pearl — stood two Italian chests bearing the 
 arms of the Medicis and adorned with gilded bronzes. 
 The chest of drawers was a Venetian coffer, the top of 
 which was a mosaic of coloured stones representing the 
 marriage of the Doge of Venice with the Adriatic. Most of 
 the costly furniture in this strange bedroom had been 
 bought at the sale at the San Donato palace. The chimney- 
 piece, of black carved wood, was ornamented by a kind of 
 reredos in which was enframed the portrait of Lady Oli- 
 faunt, painted by Chaplin, in the costume of the hunting 
 Diana, with one breast bare and a silver crescent in her 
 golden hair. The floor was entirely covered by a carpet of 
 white astrachan, as soft and fine as snow. 
 
 The mistress of the house generally received her intimate 
 friends in a little Japanese drawing-room which Sir 
 
136 WILL. 
 
 James had filled with knick-knacks chosen with the taste 
 and knowledge of a connoisseur, and the cabinets held 
 specimens of the most exquisitely carved ivory it is possible 
 to admire — statuettes sculptured with the skill and patience 
 of the wonderful Jeddo artists. In this room, hung with 
 pale-blue silk embroidered with monstrous plants and 
 chimerical animals, Diana was with her friends the evening 
 of Clement's return, attired in a costume to harmonise 
 with her surroundings. Her beautiful hair was drawn up 
 over her forehead and fastened with coral-headed gold 
 pins, while a long rose-coloured tunic with golden flowers, 
 open on the chest, and with sleeves so large that the whole 
 of her bare arms could be seen, fell to her feet, which were 
 shod with green Turkish shoes. The dress was so loose, 
 that at every movement it seemed as though it would slip 
 from her, and served as a wonderful enhancement to her 
 beauty. 
 
 It was striking iive when the footman opened the door 
 to admit Clement. There were already seven people in the 
 dainty room. Diana was sitting on a couch with the Due 
 de Pforza, a very rich Italian nobleman, with hair dyed to 
 a greenish-black, and dressed in a long, tight frock-coat in 
 the buttonhole of which he wore a multi-coloured rosette. 
 Near the piano, Mrs Andersen — an American woman with 
 no money, but the possessor of an adorable daughter with fair 
 hair, blue eyes, and the somewhat heavy Yankee chin — was 
 listening to Andr4 Wordier, the young musician, who was 
 softly singing a melody he had just written for some of 
 Coppice's verses. In a window stood Sir James holding in 
 his hands a little picture he had bought that day, and of 
 which he was pointing out the beauties, wonderful for the 
 
WILL. 137 
 
 price — only forty thousand francs, a mere nothing ! — to 
 LerehouUey, who looked as sullen as a bull-dog. 
 
 Thauziat's entrance tore Lady Olifaunt from the seduc- 
 tions of the aristocratic foreigner, and rescued Lereboulley 
 from Sir James. Diana had always a smile for Clement, 
 and yet, as she saw him come in, she had frowned. Then she 
 advanced to meet him, allowed him to press her hands, and 
 again sank languidly upon the embroidered cushions. 
 Thauziat bowed to the two American ladies, gave a friendly 
 nod to the musician, and going over to Lereboulley — 
 
 " Well, my superior officer," he said, " is Sir James" 
 showing you some new marvel ? " 
 
 " You have come just at the right moment, Clement. 
 You, who are such a critic, tell our friend that he has let 
 himself be robbed by that scoundrel of a Steiner. Two 
 thousand louis for a little piece of wood ten inches by eight ! 
 You have been robbed, my dear fellow, simply robbed ! " 
 
 "It is an authentic Carlo Dolci," replied Sir James 
 coldly, looking at the senator severely. " Besides the bar- 
 gain is concluded. And I may as well warn you the 
 cheque is drawn on your bank,'' 
 
 The thought of the cheque seemed to double Lereboul- 
 ley's irritation, and he exclaimed angrily^ 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you for warning me. But 
 you are going at a great pace, Sir James. No fortune 
 can withstand such extravagance." 
 
 The Englishman turned crimson, and said with an 
 offended air — 
 
 " Excuse me, Lereboulley, but has my wife no longer an 
 account open with you 1 " 
 
 " How you do take offence ! " broke in the senator. " I 
 
138 WILL. 
 
 am only telling you my opinion of your purchase for your 
 own good. Buy what you like ; I have nothing to do with 
 it except to cash your cheques. But it doesn't prevent 
 your picture being a daub ! " 
 
 He took Thauziat's arm and drew him away, muttering 
 furiously — " A daub ! Nothing but a daub ! " 
 
 The musician was now accompanying the pretty Miss 
 Andersen, who was singing his melody, and as he hummed 
 the air to her he raised his ecstatic eyes to the ceiling : 
 
 " Oh ! The first kiss, under the gauzy veil ! " 
 
 " ' Kiss,' is the most important word, so linger on it like 
 this : ' ki-i-iss,' and then let the voice die away on ' veil.' 
 Let it die away^die away — ^that's it ! " 
 
 The old American, who was gormandizing sandwiches' 
 and port wine, applauded all alone in her maternal enthu- 
 siasm, and murmured through her. teeth — 
 
 " Delicious ! Charming ! " 
 
 The Italian prince, who prided himself on being pas- 
 sionately fond of music, had joined the group at the piano, 
 and added his voice to the pretty American's, to whom he 
 was standing as close as he possibly could. 
 
 Diana was no longer reclining in her handsome Japanese 
 costume on the couch so inducive to reverie. She drew 
 aside a portifere and took Thauziat into the next room, 
 which was a sort of little study where Sir James wrote 
 his letters and settled tradesmen's accounts.. 
 
 " We shall not be disturbed here," she said, seating her- 
 self in an arm-chair. 
 
 " Whatever is the matter 1 " asked Cl(^ment, with a smile. 
 " Shutting yourself up in a room alone with me, Diana f 
 I thought that was a speciality of Sir James's." 
 
WILL. 139 
 
 "Do not jest," answered the beautiful Englishwoman, 
 and her eyes looked as bright and hard as steel. " It is out 
 of place, just at this moment.'' 
 
 " Oh ! Have you any worries 1 " 
 
 " Only one, but that one is of great importance." 
 
 " Can I be of any use in the matter 1 " 
 
 " I believe you can be of every use." 
 
 Thauziat glanced at Diana, saw that she was perfectly 
 calm, and became very serious. 
 
 " What have you said about me to your friend H^rault 1 " 
 went on Lady Olifaunt. " I left him with you when I came 
 away from Count Wor^seff's, and you both left almost direct- 
 ly after I did, so LerebouUey tells me. Monsieur H^rault 
 was to have come to see me the next day. Not only did 
 he not come, but he has behaved to me in the most imper- 
 tinent and ungentlemanly manner, and that before others. 
 What has happened ? How is it that he, who was so 
 amiable and devoted the evening before, should treat me 
 with such scorn and rudeness the next day i It is you who 
 have brought about this change — it can only be you. But 
 I wish to know why you did so, and by what means." 
 
 " Well, but, my dear girl, I think it very strange that you 
 should make me responsible for Louis H6rault's words and 
 deeds. He knows what he is about. He is old enough to 
 know how he ought to behave, and there is no need for me 
 to teach him what to do. Besides, I am astonished to see 
 you so upset about an unpaid visit. Are you forsaken 
 because one solitary man has escaped your toils ? " 
 
 " But if he is just the one that I wish to have at my 
 feet," broke in Diana, in hard tones. 
 
 " Oh ! oh !" said Thauziat. " Do you do Louis so much 
 
140 WILL. 
 
 honour as to make of him the preferred, the almost indis- 
 pensable adorer ? And do you want him so very badly 1 " 
 
 "1 -want nothing, except a little frankness from you. 
 What have you said to Monsieur H^rault to prevent his 
 coming to see me ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 Diana started to her feet, and putting her angry counten- 
 ance close to Thauziat's — 
 
 " Why do you tell such a lie ?" she asked. 
 
 " I never take the trouble to lie to any one," answered 
 Clement, " and why should I to you ? I have said nothing 
 to Louis. He is entirely ignorant of all you wish so care- 
 fully concealed. But when I saw him so madly in love 
 with you, and knew that he was turning all sorts of wild 
 projects over in his mind — was he not talking of running 
 away with you, and then marrjdng you after the divorce had 
 been obtained, which was all sheer madness, as you must 
 see for yourself — I tried to bring him back to a more sen- 
 sible view of the matter, and, my efforts meeting with no 
 success, I simply took him out for a walk in the open air. 
 Now, we happened to walk behind LerebouUey, and that 
 happy man innocently led us to your door — " 
 
 " And Louis H^rault saw him come in ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Diana was silent, and her hands trembled slightly as 
 they played with the silken tassels of her waist-band. 
 About her rosy mouth, which was disfigured by a malicious 
 smile, was an expression of crafty ferociousness, and her 
 eyes gleamed darkly beneath her contracted brows. 
 
 " What interest have you in wresting him from me 1 " she 
 asked, after a moment. "You have never been a stupid. 
 
WILL. 141 
 
 cowardly man who does harm for the mere pleasure of 
 causing some one to suflfer, and you would not do me a bad 
 turn unless you had a good reason for doing so." 
 
 " You are aware that I have a great weakness for you, 
 Diana, but take my advice, and think no more of Louis. I 
 have undertaken not to let him pass into your white hands, 
 and there is the solution of the mystery. Pluck Lereboul- 
 ley as much as you like ; he is a tough old bird, and can 
 defend himself. But have mercy upon this poor boy, who 
 thinks himself a roui, and is innocence itself" 
 
 The handsome English woman suddenly raised her eyes, 
 which she had kept fixed on the ground, and letting 
 Clement see them in all their luminous brightness — 
 
 " And supposing I loved him ? " she cried. 
 
 " Do not talk about anything so unlikely," returned 
 Thauziat, coldly. " My dear child, you have never loved 
 anything or anybody in this vrorld besides Diana, and in 
 that respect you have acted very wisely, for the said Diana 
 is a little personage who will never betray you, and who will 
 never give you cause for anything but satisfaction. Men 
 are fools, you know ! They are not worth troubling about." 
 
 " But I had a caprice for this one." 
 
 " It will pass." 
 
 " Thauziat, I am vainly seeking the motives which are 
 guiding you, but I am sure there is a woman's hand in all 
 this." 
 
 " Perhaps there is." 
 
 " One of these days you will find yourself Louis H6rault's 
 rival in some Ipve affair — you are bound to do so — and 
 then you will quarrel." 
 
 Clement began to laugh — 
 
142 WILL. 
 
 " When that happens, I will give him up to you, Diana, 
 as my revenge." 
 
 " That's a bargain," she replied, shaking his hand. 
 
 '' What an enchantress you are," he said,- as he held the 
 white hand for a moment in his own. 
 
 He kissed the rosy-tipped fingers ; then, as he saw her 
 arm was devoid of ornaments — 
 
 " Don't you wear any bracelets now 1 " he asked. " And 
 yet I know you have some magnificent ones." 
 
 " I don't like anything but pearls now — large black ones 
 — and they are too expensive for my purse." 
 
 " Will you allow me to send you some 1 " 
 
 " And while you are about it, Thauziat, mind you send 
 me the one your friend has discovered, and to whom he is 
 making such violent love in his grandmother's house," she 
 replied, with a mocking air. 
 
 " He never meets anyone but Emilie Lereboulley at his 
 grandmother's." 
 
 " No, no ! He never turned his thoughts to that safiron- 
 skinned deformity,'' said Diana, irritably. "It is some 
 one else, quite fresh, who is in question. Was it because 
 this other love aflair found favour in your eyes that you 
 prevented him from coming here 1 " 
 
 " This is the first I have heard of any love affair. I 
 haven't seen Louis for a week." 
 
 " Well, then, go and assist at the spectacle, it ought to be 
 very interesting. And then you can tell me all about it." 
 
 " You may be sure I shall do that ! " 
 
 They returned to the drawing-room, where Sir James 
 had begun to play piquet with Lereboulley. The Italian was 
 flirting with Miss Andersen, whose mother was still eating 
 cakes regardless of the composer's stare of amazement. 
 
WILL. 143 
 
 It was not long before Thauziat took leave and retired. 
 Once out of the house, he turned his steps towards the 
 club, meditating as he went. Diana's words had left their 
 impression on his mind. Amongst his other qualities, 
 good, bad, or indifferent, he could reckon that of an 
 excellent memory, which stored away a record of 
 the smallest events. In an instant Lady Olifaunt's 
 treacherous insinuation had brought to his mind the young 
 girl Louis and he had followed and Madame H6rault's 
 reminiscences when she heard this name Graville, which 
 reminded her of the village where she was born. Again 
 there appeared to Thauziat's eyes, clearly and well defined, 
 the silhouette of the girl, who, for half-an-hour, had excited 
 his curiosity, stimulated his desire and enfevered his 
 usually tranquil brain. Could she be the girl who was 
 now living with Madame H6rault 1 
 
 And why had Louis been so careful not to tell him of 
 the strange ending to their adventure 1 He suspected his 
 friend of a little perfidy. After all it was he, Thauziat, 
 who had first remarked the girl, who was walking quietly 
 along, with nothing about her to attract attention save her 
 natural elegance and quiet grace. It was he who had 
 induced Louis to follow her — oh ! without any thought of 
 making a conquest, simply for the pleasure of watching 
 her walk — it was he who had caused the interrogation of 
 old Anselme, and it was he who had put all in proper train 
 for the providential discovery of H61fene — yes, Helfene, he 
 remembered even her name. In his mind, he could see her 
 profile under the veil, as he saw it that d^y ; he could see 
 her determined chin, her proud mouth, and the undula- 
 tions of her figure when she hastened her steps to distance 
 
144 WILL. 
 
 her pursuers. Would Louis' careless eyes have ever picked 
 out a woman from the crowd, and, even if he had noticed 
 her, would he have ever had the energy to follow her? 
 No ! The episode was entirely owing to Clement, and he 
 felt a sort of proprietary right to the young girl ; she was 
 in some measure his creation. 
 
 Already his brain was becoming heated, already he 
 was giving rein to his imagination. But he quickly re- 
 called himself to his senses, as he suddenly thought how 
 hastily he was forming his opinion, and how little depend- 
 ence was to be placed on Diana's tale, and he began to 
 laugh at his own precipitation. Still, he felt a certain 
 secret pleasure at this sudden effervescence which had 
 carried away his judgment, for in it he saw a proof that 
 his youth was not yet quite gone. Then he calmly analysed 
 his sensations, and found that he had been more seriously 
 preoccupied than he had thought. He had a dull feeling 
 of irritation within him, and although he had no intentions 
 regarding this girl himself yet he looked upon Louis as 
 supplanting him. 
 
 Accustomed to direct young H^rault, and to see him 
 always give way to him, as to his lord and master, he 
 suspected his vassal of a movement of revolt against his 
 authority, and the attempt at emancipation wounded him 
 deeply. If Louis had taken a fancy to the girl, he 
 certainly would not try to draw her away from him — every 
 one knew his principles in gallant affairs. But if ever his 
 amowr-propre was at stake,- if anyone tried to distance or to 
 conquer him, then his desire for battle and triumph was 
 aroused, and woe to those who barred his path ! 
 
 He moved his hand in a gesture of menace, and this 
 
WILL. 145 
 
 time, when he noticed the direction of his thoughts, he did 
 not laugh. On the contrary, he remained very grave, and 
 promised himself to hring all this intrigue to light at once. 
 When he had finished his dinner at the club, he strolled 
 through the different rooms, watched for a moment a game 
 of billiards which had just begun, came to the conclusion 
 that the two adversaries were bad players, and then, yield- 
 ing to an inward excitement which forbade him to stay 
 long in one place, left the club, and went to the Faubourg 
 Poissonifere. 
 
 When he reached the H^raults' house, instead of letting 
 him go upstairs as usual, the footman opened a little door 
 under the staircase, and led the way into the garden. 
 
 It had been a very hot day, and after dinner Madame 
 H^rault finding the drawing-room intolerably close, had 
 taken her grandson's arm, and letting Emilie, who had 
 come to dinner, pass before her with Mademoiselle de 
 Graville, had gone to sit on the lawn near the garden steps. 
 It was nine o'clock and nearly night, but the sky was so 
 clear that surrounding objects could be quite clearly dis- 
 tinguished. A delicious odour of freshness was exhaled by 
 the carefully watered lawns, and the flowers in the vases, 
 refreshed by the soft, cool breeze, scattered their exquisite 
 perfumes on the air. The pretty garden was enwrapped in 
 a deep calm, and hardly could the far-away murmur of 
 voices, or the faint sound of carriage- wheels in the distance 
 serve as a reminder that this oasis was in the very heart of 
 Paris. Under the influence of the sweet quiet all four were 
 silent, until Louis took out a cigar and proceeded to light 
 it. Then Madame H^rault, who allowed her grandson to 
 smoke in every room of the house, protested. 
 
1 46 WILL. 
 
 " You will poison us with your horrid tobacco." 
 
 " Well, that is consistent," answered Louis. " You don't 
 mind me smoking in the drawing-room, and yet you forbid 
 it out of doors." 
 
 " The flowers are perfuming the air all around us this 
 evening, and you are going to spoil it all." 
 
 " Oh, grandmother, so you are taking up horticulture 
 again ! By the way, does Mademoiselle de Graville like 
 flowers 1 Have you that innocent but all-absorbing passion, 
 mademoiselle 1 " 
 
 " Mademoiselle de G-raville does love flowers," answered 
 Madame H^rault, " and she knows a great deal more about 
 them than I do. She has shown me some alterations which 
 ought to be made in the arrangement of the hothouse, 
 which are very ingenious and very simple." 
 
 " That^ is how they were at my father's, at Graville,'' 
 said H616ne. 
 
 " Then, if you have found some one to help you, grand- 
 mother, we will exhibit next year. Let me see : Orchids — 
 Madame H^rault, gold medal. That sounds well, doesn't 
 it. But, since you don't like my cigar, I am going for a 
 stroll in the garden ; will you come with me, Emilie ? " 
 
 Mademoiselle Lereboulley rose, and they slowly dis- 
 appeared behind a clump of trees. A moment afterwards 
 Madame H^rault heard the sound of a step on the gravel 
 path, and turning round — 
 
 " Why, here is Monsieur de Thauziat ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 At these words H^lfene started. She had heard this 
 name pronounced very often during the past week, and she 
 knew it was that of Louis' most intimate friend. She 
 experienced a sudden sensation of dread, as though some 
 
WILL. 147 
 
 danger were at hand, which prevented her raising her 
 eyes, but she heard a sonorous voice saying — 
 
 " Good evening, madame ; are you quite well 1 Has 
 Louis left you alone this evening ? " 
 
 " He is walking round the garden with Emilie Lere- 
 boulley. But, as you see, I am not alone ; I never am 
 now. I have an adopted daughter, to whom I must 
 present you. My dear child, this is Monsieur de Thauziat, 
 one of our dearest friends." 
 
 H616ne rose, and as she looked at the visitor she recog- 
 nised the dark, proud face of the man who was with Louis 
 the day they had first seen each other. She had guessed 
 it was he before she raised her eyes, for he was the only 
 man whose presence could cause her such violent agitation. 
 The imperious vibration of his voice, made to command, 
 the determination of his glance, which would be obeyed, 
 the decision of his somewhat scornful manner, all be- 
 tokened an exceptional man who was bound to leave, 
 whether for good or for evil, his impression wherever he 
 chose to go. 
 
 "Mademoiselle H^16ne de Graville, my dear C16ment," 
 continued Madame Hdrault, concluding the introduction. 
 
 He bowed with courtly and respectful grace, as if he 
 were at the feet of some princess of blood royal, and said 
 in a voice which was almost a caress, so soft and gentle 
 was it : 
 
 " Henceforth I shall not have so heavy a burden upon 
 my conscience when I deprive you of Louis, madame, for 
 I shall know that the void caused by his absence will be 
 as well filled as if he were with you." 
 
 H^lfene made no response save by a cold inclinatioh of the 
 
148 WILL. 
 
 head. In no way did Clement overstep the bounds of the 
 strictest propriety, and yet Mademoiselle de Graville felt as 
 if he had whispered words of love in her ear. In every 
 tone and inflection of his voice, in his every attitude she 
 found something which left its impression on her. Fate 
 had decreed that everyone with whom this man came in 
 contact must either hate or adore him ; it was useless to 
 dream of escaping his influence. 
 
 From the first minute, H^l^ne's perception of this 
 fatality was clear and decided. She was not deceived in 
 t her opinion of Clement; she knew that he would work 
 her either much good or irreparable harm, but which of 
 the two it would be she did not know, and it would have 
 been impossible for her to foresee. 
 
 She ventured to look at him while he was talking to 
 Madame H&ault. She could discover no indication of 
 wickedness in his face. His forehead was broad and in- 
 teUectual, his eyes bright and dark, his teeth were white 
 and even, and there was an air of strength and gaiety 
 about him. The only sign of hard-heartedness lay in the 
 slightly aquUine nose, but, after all, that might as pro- 
 bably betoken pride as cruelty, and the intonations of his 
 voice were sometimes irresistibly sweet and caressing. 
 She drew a mental comparison between Louis, with his 
 fair hair, his blue eyes, his slight figure, his womanish 
 voice and indecision of character, and this strong deter- 
 mined dark-skinned man, and the difference seemed like 
 that between a dove and a vulture. What resistance could 
 the former offer to the latter 1 Was he not destined to be 
 his prey ? 
 
 As this thought passed through her mind, Louis and 
 
WILL. 149 
 
 Emilie came back. The young man recognised his friend 
 some way off, and cried — 
 
 " Ah, Clement, is that you 1 " 
 
 But he did not hasten his steps, and it seemed as 
 though he was loath to approach the group. Mademoiselle 
 LerebouUey, on the contrary, advanced with hand out- 
 stretched to Thauziat, her eyes shining, her lips smiling— 
 
 " You have kept your promise," she said ; " thank you. " 
 
 " For what are you thanking him? " asked Louis. 
 
 " For a little service he has rendered me." 
 
 " Ah, Thauziat is rendering you services, is he ] Be- 
 ware, he does not do anything for nothing.'' 
 
 " Let him ask me what he wUl," answered Emilie 
 seriously, " it can never be as much as what I have abeady 
 offered him." 
 
 And passing before the two men, she seated herself 
 between H^I^ne and Madame H^rault. Louis and Thauziat 
 remained standing face to face. 
 
 " What have you been doing aU the centuries since I 
 last saw you?" asked Clement. "Have you turned 
 hermit ? " 
 
 " I am not old enough yet to do that ! " 
 
 " Then have you been kept prisoner by that young lady's 
 attractions 1 " and, with an ironic movement of his head, 
 Thauziat designated Mademoiselle de Graville. 
 
 Louis' heart beat quickly. He felt that his friend was 
 more in earnest than he wished to show, and that his 
 question demanded a frank reply. He thought for a 
 moment of answering, "Yes, I like her, and I should 
 esteem myself happy if I could make her love me." Then 
 he was restrained by the memory of the young girl's more 
 
160 WILL. 
 
 than modest position, and he did not desire to reveal the 
 lively interest with which she had already inspired him. 
 He feared his friend's ridicule, and at the same time he 
 was a little jealous. He remembered Thauziat's admira- 
 tion the first time he had seen H61fene, and his determined 
 pursuit. He thought it prudent not to attract his attention 
 and he did not make his confession. 
 
 " What 1 " he replied, in affected disdain. " That little 
 companion ! Good heavens, no ! I have never understood 
 how a man can have a love affair in his own house ; it is 
 too great a nuisance. "When the break comes, the fellow 
 daren't go home unless he turns the woman out, and if he 
 does that he seems a hard-hearted brute, and I am too 
 sensitive, I don't like hurting anyone. Do you like the 
 look of her ? " 
 
 " Very much indeed ; and since no one else is laying 
 siege — " 
 
 " But, Clement, she is beneath my grandmother's roof." 
 
 " Make yourself easy, I shall respect your house." 
 
 " And she is of good family." 
 
 " Then I can marry her," retorted Thauziat, laughing. 
 Then becoming grave once more, and fixing his eyes on 
 Louis' — 
 
 " You are very moral to-day. Have you any second 
 thoughts 1 If so, say so." 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 Twice had Thauziat intentionally given H6rault an 
 opportunity for speaking. Twice had the latter recoiled 
 before the necessity of making a confession to his friend. 
 In five minutes he had sown the seed of the cruel regrets 
 he was to suffer in after days. 
 
WILL. 151 
 
 They both went over to the three ladies and began to 
 talk, while the darkness deepened around them. Emilie, 
 at first silent, became gradually animated, and her wit 
 gave forth fiery sparks as it encountered Thauziat's. The 
 repartee of both was as brilliant as if they had had an 
 audience of a hundred persons to encourage them with 
 their plaudits. It seemed as if CMment wished to display 
 his intellectual powers, and as if Emilie, happy at the 
 similarity of ideas between herself and him, was taking 
 delight in providing him with themes on which to base his 
 variations. 
 
 Madame Herault, H^lfene and Louis sat listening to 
 them until eleven o'clock, unmindful of the increasing fresh- 
 ness of the night and the deepening silence of the town. 
 It was only when Louis suddenly exclaimed, " Why, it is 
 nearly midnight ! " that the spell was broken. Then 
 Madame Herault slowly rose, and all went into the house. 
 They stayed for a moment in the hall, while Emilie, with 
 the aid of her maid, who was awaiting her, put on her cloak. 
 
 " What a delightful evening we have passed ! " said the 
 old grandmother. 
 
 " And one which we could often enjoy," added Emilie, 
 " if only Monsieur de Thauziat would give us his society." 
 
 Thauziat smiled, but made no answer, not wishing to 
 show too much eagerness to accept this invitation. He 
 bowed to Madame Herault and Mademoiselle de Graville, 
 pressed Louis' hand, and turning to Mademoiselle Lere- 
 bouUey — 
 
 " I wUl see you to your carriage," he said. 
 
 They went out together, and the other three watched 
 them go ofi'. 
 
152 WILL. 
 
 "What a charming man Clement is," said Madame 
 H^rault. " To see and hear him this evening, who would 
 have imagined he is such a scamp 1 For he is a scamp, 
 H61fene, my dear. How unaffected and nice he has been 
 these last two hours ! I must say I adore him, and I hope 
 he will soon come again." 
 
 "Don't buoy yourself up with that hope too much, 
 grandmother," said Louis. " Thauziat is a man who excels 
 in the art of making himself regretted. He has put 
 himself out for you this evening, but you won't see him 
 again for a fortnight, at least." 
 
 In his heart Louis hoped it would be as he said. But he 
 was doomed to disappointment. The next day but one 
 Thauziat called again, and, as if his habits had experienced 
 as complete a transformation as those of his friend, seemed 
 to take a real pleasure in quiet, family society. He had al- 
 ways been treated by Madame H6rault as one of the family, 
 and, besides, his intimacy with Louis furnished a pretext 
 for his frequent visits ; still it might have been observed 
 that he only came at the hours when he was sure to find 
 Mademoiselle de Graville with Madame Herault. He 
 lulled Helene's prejudices to sleep, did not arouse Madame 
 H6rault's suspicious and almost managed to impose upon 
 Louis. 
 
 "After all, Clement has proved his affection for me," 
 said the latter to himself; " and why should he not really 
 come here only to see me 1 " 
 
 Emilie, with her greater penetration, had had a 
 truer idea of Cldment's designs than anybody from the 
 very first, though the state of Thauziat's mind was, in 
 truth, complicated enough ; but there is no analysis more 
 
WILL. 153 
 
 delicate than that of a suffering woman striving to ascer- 
 tain the causes of her pain. 
 
 Clement had first gone to see Mademoiselle de GravUle 
 out of sheer curiosity. He wanted to know what this girl 
 was like, and, hurt by Louis' hypocritical silence, he had 
 promised himself to have his revenge by inflicting a little 
 anxiety upon his friend. Then he had become interested 
 himself, and H616ne's fascination had completed the defeat 
 of this hitherto victorious warrior. 
 
 That she had conquered him there could be no question. 
 He took pleasure in being near her, even if he could not 
 speak to her, and he was quite willing to pass a whole 
 evening at the Hdraults' house playing b6sique with the 
 grandmother, simply to be able to look at the young 
 girl, as she sat by the table sewing, with her eyes bent 
 upon her work. He found a new and great delight 
 only in breathing the same air as she did, and he never 
 stopped to ask himself whither this incline, which he was 
 so rapidly descending, would lead him. All he knew or 
 cared about was that he found a pleasure in following this 
 path, which exceeded any he had found hitherto. He 
 studied every means of entering into H^l^ne's confidence, 
 and, whenever he had the opportunity, would talk to her of 
 her birthplace, ,her family and the precarious existence 
 she had so bravely borne. He called to his aid words of 
 infinite delicacy to make her feel and understand the 
 admiration he had for her, and it was strangely interesting 
 to watch this hlasi who found his heart again imbued with 
 pure and tender sentiments. 
 
 Emilie had followed, not without melancholy, Clement's 
 tactics ; she measured with great accuracy the successive 
 
154 WILL. 
 
 advances he made along this path of love, and it increased 
 the esteem in which she had held Mademoiselle de Graville 
 from the commencement of their acquaintance, to see how 
 indifferent she remained to CMment's peculiarly flattering 
 attentions. Had she been in H616ne's place, would she not 
 have gladly responded to the advances of this seductive lover? 
 And who, besides this girl, could have worn an expression 
 of so serene a dignity 1 Who else would have exhibited 
 so much cool politeness and amiable reserve ? Sometimes 
 her demeanour was so calm and self-possessed as to lead 
 to the impression that she was not even conscious of the 
 attentive care of which she was the object, and Emilie 
 resolved to skilfully sound this heart which kept so admir- 
 ably the secret of its feelings. 
 
 When H61fene had been installed with Madame Hferault, 
 she was treated exactly as if she had been the old lady's 
 daughter. A maid had been provided for her service, and 
 presents of all sorts had been showered upon her. She had 
 hardly anything to wear, when she had yielded to Madame 
 Hdrault's entreaties, so Emilie had been commissioned to 
 go shopping with her, and the two girls soon became 
 intimate. Lereboulley, on his side, had received his 
 daughter's new friend very graciously and had invited her 
 to his house, an invitation which H616ne had accepted. 
 She wondered at Emilie's eccentricity, but liked her nature 
 which was essentially good beneath the sarcastic exterior. 
 She understood the bitterness which lay on the surface of 
 this exceptional character, and knew how to seek and find 
 the treasures of affection which lay beneath, like pearls 
 hidden by the raging waves. Seeing that she was delicate 
 and unhappy, she became attached to her, and showed 
 
WILL. 155 
 
 herself to her friend as she was in all her naive and serene 
 uprightness. 
 
 Thus in a few weeks they had become very intimate, 
 and they passed many hours together in Emilie's studio, for 
 Helfene had begun to paint on china very well, and as she 
 leant over the table, with a large bibbed apron around her, 
 delicately handling the brush. Mademoiselle Lereboulley 
 painted her portrait. One afternoon as Emilie was smoking 
 a cigarette and aiding H61fene, who was copying a Persian 
 plate taken down from the studio wall, with her advice, she 
 said to her pupil — 
 
 " I am not at all dissatisfied with your portrait, it really 
 is not coming out at all badly. If you will let me, I will 
 send it to Petit's for the International Exhibition of 
 Paintings.'' 
 
 H^l^ne looked up, and laying down her brush — 
 
 " You may do as you like, but I think you could send a 
 more attractive picture than my face," 
 
 " Are you sincere when you say that ? Or do you not 
 know that you are extremely pretty 1 Thauziat, who is a 
 connoisseur of female beauty, can enlighten you on that 
 point. He never takes his eyes from you." 
 
 A slight blush deepened the colour in H^lfene's cheeks, 
 but she made no answer. Emilie wished to drive her to 
 her last entrenchments. 
 
 " Have you never seen that he loves you ? " 
 
 " Do you think that Monsieur de Thauziat would waste 
 his time by paying attention to me ? " 
 
 " He is quite convinced that he is not wasting it." 
 
 " Then he is mistaken," said Mademoiselle de Graville, 
 decidedly. 
 
156 WILL. 
 
 A sigh of relief escaped Emilie's lips. That Thauziat 
 loved H616ne she had not the slightest doubt. Alas ! she 
 could not prevent the man she so hopelessly adored admir- 
 ing other women. She was well aware that he had not 
 met, and would not meet many bard-hearted ones, but it 
 would have been a cruel blow to her if H^lfene had loved 
 him. Of all the rivals she feared. Mademoiselle de Graville 
 would have been the one whom she could with most 
 difficulty have tolerated. The friendship she had bestowed 
 on her would have been empoisoned, and she clung almost 
 as tenaciously to her friendship for the one as she did to her 
 love for the other. Now she felt easy. H61fene had not 
 given way, but had come off victorious from so severe a trial. 
 She placed implicit belief in her words — a mouth so proud 
 could not lie. 
 
 Having learnt what she wished to know, Emilie changed 
 the conversation, and there was no further question of 
 C16ment between the two girls. 
 
 After meeting with such success with H(5l6ne, Mademoiselle 
 LerebouUey determined to recommence her manoeuvres with 
 Thauziat and try to induce him to tell her his secret in- 
 tentions, though she knew that the task was not so easy a 
 one as that she had already performed, and that her second 
 adversary would differ very materially from the confiding 
 young girl. But Clement himself offered her the oppor- 
 tunity she sought. One evening after a dinner-party at the 
 senator's house, he was sitting in the drawing-room, 
 patiently listening to Lady Olifaunt who was singing, with 
 more confidence than voice, the exquisite lament of the Cid 
 — " Pleurez mes yeux," and as the beautiful Englishwoman 
 finished her song, amidst the applause of her audience, 
 Emilie went over to Clement, and, glancing at Diana — 
 
WILL. 157 
 
 " She has so often been told that she has four thousand 
 francs in her throat, that she is always making terrible 
 efforts to try and get them out," she said, in her boyish 
 manner. 
 
 " She must undergo a great deal of suffering during the 
 process then, for she utters awful shrieks," replied Thauziat, 
 drily. 
 
 " I am afraid Louis does not sufiSciently appreciate the 
 service you have rendered him by stepping between him and 
 his beautiful divinity." 
 
 " Well, he thinks it better to stay at home for the present.'' 
 
 " But he would have been here this evening if Made- 
 moiselle de Graville had accepted our invitation." 
 
 " Do you think then he cannot bear to be away from herl" 
 
 " I think he has a strong liking for her, which Madame 
 H6rault encourages in every way." 
 
 " What ! She would think of marrying him to Made- 
 moiselle H^lfene ? " 
 
 " Of course. Do you imagine H^lfene is one of those 
 women a man needn't marry ? " 
 
 Thauziat made no reply. He fell into a reverie, and 
 seemed to forget Emilie's presence. She, on her side, dared 
 not address him, although she would have given worlds to 
 know what was passing through his mind. After a long 
 silence, he looked up and said, as though continuing their 
 former conversation — 
 
 " Perhaps she would be the wife he needs. If she can 
 assume any influence over him all will be well." 
 
 " I think she likes him very much,'' said Emilie. 
 
 For a moment Clement's eyes flashed and his lips 
 tightened. Then he said indifferently — 
 
158 WILL. 
 
 " Well, I wish them all luck ! May they be happy and 
 have a large family ! " 
 
 With that he rose, and Emilie could get nothing more 
 from him. 
 
 As for old Madame H^rault she made no effort to conceal 
 her feelings. She simply adored H^lfene, for never before 
 had she been so coddled and caressed as she was now by this 
 girl. It had been very difiScult for her, trained as she was 
 to absolute passivity, to assume the habit of command. The 
 cares and management of her fortune and her house weighed 
 on her like a heavy burden, which she soon shifted to the 
 shoulders of Mademoiselle de Graville, who knew how to 
 make herself at once loved and respected by every servant in 
 the house. She had so sweet and gentle a way of giving her 
 orders, that even the steward, who was a very important 
 member of the household, said one day to Madame H6rault — 
 
 "I would rather receive a command from Mademoiselle 
 H61fene than an entreaty from most." 
 
 And the old grandmother found, to her astonishment and 
 delight, that her adopted daughter had bewitched every- 
 body, and had gained by degrees and without the slightest 
 clash, an authority which was incontestable. 
 
 "Whatever should I do if H61fene left me now?" she 
 sometimes thought ; and if her grandson had told her he 
 loved the young girl and had asked her permission to marry 
 her, she would certainly have received his confession with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 But Louis, in his easy nonchalant way, was quite content 
 to bask in the sunshine of Mademoiselle de Graville's pre- 
 sence, and did not dream of making any alterations in his 
 present beatific state. With his weak nature, which was 
 
WILL. 159 
 
 never aroused to any real vigour unless it was a question of 
 some vice to gratify, he was one of those men who are a long 
 time making up their minds to anything, but who once hav- 
 ing made a resolution cling to it, even though it should be 
 a bad one, with all their strength rather than arrive at 
 another decision. 
 
 After his conversation with Emilie, Clement passed some 
 days without visiting his friends at the Faubourg Pois- 
 sonifere, much to the latters' astonishment, though Louis 
 often saw him at Lereboulley's and at Saint Denis, for the 
 Franco-American cable scheme was approaching its com- 
 pletion. After much reflection the senator had decided, by 
 Thauziat's advice, to form a company, nearly all the shares 
 of which would be taken up by himself, Louis and a very 
 rich Yankee named Arthur J. Smithson. The two ex- 
 tremities of the cable were to be at Brest and Panama, for 
 they thought it most advisable to be near the canal that 
 was being dug. 
 
 LerebouUey, who was highly elated at the thought of 
 injuring the interests of the English transatlantic cable 
 company (as if it were the odious Sir James he was about 
 to strike through his fellow-countrymen), developed his 
 ideas, called committee meetings, and plied Thauziat with 
 questions, soliciting an approbation which the latter, 
 apparently heedless of what his partner in the project was 
 saying to him, gave freely and carelessly. His mind, usually 
 so quick and strong, was evidently worried and troubled, 
 and Louis, seeing his indifierence and apathy, became bold 
 as he thought that after all C16ment was not so clever as 
 he had hitherto judged him. Incapable of forming an idea 
 of the tempestuous workings of which this lassitude was the 
 
160 WILL. 
 
 result, he smiled as he told himself, " I can meet him on 
 his own ground and vanquish him," and he was rash enough 
 to ask his friend why he did not come to the Faubourg 
 Poissonifere as he used to do. 
 
 " If you particularly wish me to come, I will," answered 
 Thauziat, with a glance in which Louis perceived all the 
 sardonic keenness of former days. 
 
 " My grandmother would he delighted if you would call," 
 said H6rault, feeling somewhat piqued. " Especially as we 
 shall soon be going to Boissise." 
 
 " I can visit you there just as easily as at Paris, when I 
 return from Inspriich." 
 
 " Are you going to Austria 1 " 
 
 " Yes. I am going to stay with Prince Wienitsgrcetz, 
 who has invited me to his place year after year for the 
 chamois hunting." 
 
 " He has decidedly given up all thoughts of H(51^ne," 
 thought Louis to himself, and a feeling of utter security 
 took the place of the anxiety he had felt. 
 
 And yet it was at this very time that Clement's thoughts 
 were the most persistently turned towards Mademoiselle de 
 Graville. His proud, rebellious nature was not one to 
 surrender without many struggles, and, before yielding to 
 a passion different from any he had hitherto experienced, 
 he used every means to resist it. He submitted his own 
 feelings to the strictest examination, he discussed with 
 himself the woman who inspired them, he tried to prove 
 to his own satisfaction that she was not worth the trouble 
 he was taking over her, he took upon himself the r6le of a 
 sage counsellor, and pointed out to himself all the dangers 
 amidst which such a love would lead him; and all his 
 
WILL. 161 
 
 arguments started from Emilie Lereboulley's words : "Do 
 you think she is one of those -women a man needn't 
 marry 1 " 
 
 To marry was a grave step, and one which Clement could 
 not make up his mind to take. Had it been a question 
 of eloping with H^lfene, of carrying her off from Madame 
 H^rault's, of sacrificing to her for a time a portion of his 
 liberty, he would not have hesitated to do so for a moment. 
 Neither Louis' anguish nor his grandmother's sorrow would 
 have touched his heart. He would have made everything 
 subordinate to his own pleasure, as he was always accus- 
 tomed to do, and whatever might have been the con- 
 sequences of his deed he would not have feared them. 
 But to totally change the course of his life, to modify his 
 social position, in one day to alter his whole future, and all 
 for a woman ! He laughed at the idea, with his mouth 
 twitching with rage the while it is true, but still he laughed 
 as he swore that never would he be so inconsistent to his 
 past. 
 
 Then he must give H61fene up 1 His reason answered, 
 yes, but his whole being revolted at the thought that she 
 might be another's, that her supple form might quiver 
 in the embrace of arms other than his own, and her eyes 
 droop in the ecstasy of a pleasure he would not share. 
 "When such ideas as these entered his brain he could not 
 dispel them. The solitude in which he had elaborated 
 so many bold schemes and cherished so many happy 
 dreams was now hateful to him. He felt forced into 
 the streets, there to weary himself by physical exercise, but 
 even there did the seductive phantom often follow him, 
 and, bending over him, seem to say, " Why are you fleeing 
 
 L 
 
162 WILL. 
 
 from me 1 Should I not always be a true and tender 
 companion ? You would find me constantly at your side, 
 ready to encourage and admire you, and, at least, your 
 ambition would have an object, your efforts would not be 
 wholly selfish, and your enjoyment of your triumphs would 
 be infinitely keener if we were two to rejoice over them ! " 
 And in vain did he attempt to dismiss these haunting 
 thoughts. 
 
 He had again fallen into the habit of visiting Lady 
 Olifaunt, for with her he felt he was the most surely 
 protected against himself. The beautiful Englishwoman's 
 house was a sort of magic lantern, through which passed 
 in quick and constant succession all sorts of men and 
 women. There Thauziat had no time to think, and dis- 
 traction for him meant safety. 
 
 Diana had wished to question him about what was going 
 on at the H6raults', but Clement had answered with 
 such evident annoyance that she had not insisted, however 
 much she may have wished to gratify her curiosity ; she had 
 known too long and too well the man with whom she was 
 dealing to take any liberty with him when he did not seem 
 in a mood to allow it. For a moment the suspicion had 
 crossed her mind that Thauziat was in love, but in that 
 case it was so very unlikely that his love was not re- 
 turned, that, without troubling to inquire further, she 
 attributed her friend's unequal temper to grave, busi- 
 ness preoccupations. She knew he was engaged in some 
 vast enterprises which the general misery and stagnation 
 of trade were likely to compromise, and, mercenary as 
 she was, nothing seemed more natural to her than anxiety 
 on such a point, though LerebouUey assured her that 
 
WILL. 163 
 
 Thauziat ran not the slightest risk, and that if he had any 
 cares they were not monetary ones. 
 
 Then she tried to attract Clement by a display of 
 coquetry ; but, for the first time, she found him cold and 
 insensible. He did not even seem aware of the advances 
 she was making him, and continued to treat her simply 
 as a comrade. He went out with her a great deal, perfectly 
 indifferent whither she led him. As a rule she made an 
 appointment with Sir James, who generally came in from 
 a sale at the H6tel Drouot, or a visit to a bric-k-brac dealer, 
 with some new knick-knack in his pocket, and then they 
 went to finish the evening at a fashionable restaurant or 
 one of the smaller theatres with Lereboulley. 
 
 One afternoon, about five o'clock, as Clement and Diana 
 were driving through the Eue de S^ze, they saw the notice 
 of an exhibition of pictures, and Diana thinking she should 
 like to see it, the carriage was stopped and they went in. 
 ~ It was one of those galleries so many of which have sprung 
 into existence during the last few years in addition to the 
 annual and ofiicial Salon, to form as it were a number of little 
 churches where each artist has his shrine. Many members 
 of society have enlisted in the ranks of professional artists, 
 and the talent they display is by no means the smallest of 
 the attractions offered by these private exhibitions. It was 
 the first day, and the large rooms were crowded by a public 
 anxious to see. Diana and Clement commenced to go the 
 round, carelessly gazing at the pictures with which the 
 walls were covered, and taking far more interest in the 
 crowd around them. 
 
 They had already met a few people of their acquaintance 
 to whom she had smiled and he had raised his hat, when 
 
164 WILL. 
 
 from a group which had formed a few yards before them 
 the words, " It is by Mademoiselle Lereboulley," attracted 
 their attention. They drew nearer, and suddenly Thauziat 
 stood motionless his eyes fixed on the picture before him, 
 for on the black-framed canvas he had recognised, with her 
 grave smile and proud eyes, the woman who was never 
 absent from his thoughts. Diana looked at him in amaze- 
 ment, and seeing he had stopped short before a portrait, 
 asked — 
 
 " Well, Thauziat, what is the matter 1 " 
 
 He made no answer, fascinated by the picture and per- 
 fectly unable to take his eyes from it. 
 
 " Who is the woman who possesses so powerful an 
 influence over him that he forgets all to lose himself in an 
 ecstatic contemplation of her face ? " thought Lady Olifaunt. 
 " Is it she who is the cause of the strange anxiety of which 
 we cannot discover the reason ? Who can she be 1 Emilie 
 LerebouUey knows her, yet I have never met her, and her 
 face is quite unknown to me." 
 
 She left Clement to his adoration, while she thought and 
 looked at the people moving past, until an exclamation 
 from her companion made her look round. Coming 
 towards her was the original of the portrait, with Emilie 
 Lereboulley and Louis H^rault. 
 
 Clement had turned very pale, and Diana smiled as she 
 murmured between her teeth — 
 
 " It is all explained ! " 
 
 Only a space of a few yards separated the two parties. 
 H^lene had instinctively stopped when she saw Thauziat 
 with Lady Olifaunt, Emilie had turned pale and Louis had 
 glanced at his friend with eyes full of anguish. It was 
 
WILL. 165 
 
 Clement, who was yet the most agitated of them all, who 
 made the first movement to lessen the embarrassment of 
 the situation. He approached Hilhue, and bowing to her 
 with that respectful courtesy which at once assigns her 
 rightful position to the woman to whom it is rendered — 
 
 " We were admiring the portrait which is so faithful a 
 copy of your features, mademoiselle, because of its beauty," 
 he said. " But now that we are able to compare it with the 
 original, it also compels our admiration for the skill of 
 its painter, of whose talent the comparison leaves not the 
 slightest doubt." 
 
 " Come, come. Monsieur de Thauziat !" returned Emilia. 
 " We shall only accept the first half of your compliment. 
 The beauty of the model may well be praised ; but as for 
 the work itself — " 
 
 She broke off abruptly, and, affecting to discover Diana 
 at that moment only — 
 
 " Ah, forgive me, my dear Lady Olifaunt ! I did not see 
 you. Louis, here is Lady Olifaunt." 
 
 Louis bowed, but the Englishwoman did not even turn 
 her head in his direction. She was intently gazing at the 
 girl in whom she had detected a rival, and as she looked her 
 lips became drawn and thin and her blue eyes appeared the 
 colour of steel. She stepped forward, and, turning to Emilie — 
 
 "Pray introduce mademoiselle and me," she said. "I 
 should be so delighted to make the acquaintance of one so 
 charming. I see you already love her." 
 
 " Very much, indeed ! " replied Emilie, with an accent 
 that was almost threatening. " Well, since you wish it— 
 H61fene, dear, Lady Olifaunt, one of the prettiest women 
 Paris can boast. Madame, Mademoiselle de Graville." 
 
166 WILL. 
 
 Diana took no notice of the impertinent way in which 
 Emilie had reversed the order of introduction, nor of the 
 contemptuous tone she had used in describing her as "one 
 of the prettiest women Paris can boast." She turned to 
 Hel6ne, and, holding out her hand — 
 
 " I am indeed glad to know you, mademoiselle," she said, 
 " and I shall hope to have the pleasure of often meeting 
 you, since you are the friend of Mademoiselle LerebouUey." 
 
 Then passing between Mademoiselle de Graville and 
 Louis, she whispered to the latter with an irony which 
 startled him : 
 
 " I compliment you on your taste." 
 
 One moment more she stood looking at H61fene and Louis 
 with her malicious smile upon her lips, then she murmured — 
 
 " Very nice, indeed ! " 
 
 Then she took Thauziat's arm, bowed slightly to the two 
 ladies, said aloud, " Au revoir," and passed on. 
 
 H61ene watched her for a moment, admiring her graceful 
 walk, her supple figure, her easy movements, then — 
 
 " So that is the famous Lady Olifaunt, of whom I have 
 so often heard you speak," she said to Emilie. 
 
 "Yes, dear, the divine Diana herself; wife of Sir James 
 Olifaunt, Baronet." 
 
 "Why did she watch Monsieur H6rault and me so 
 closely ] " 
 
 " Because she knows your history, and that Madame 
 Herault loves you as if you were her daughter." 
 
 A slight blush overspread H^l^ne's face as she shook her 
 head and answered — 
 
 " I saw hatred in her eyes. But I am poor and insigni- 
 ficant ; she is rich and superb. Why should she hate me ? " 
 
WILL. 167 
 
 " Because she is one of those people who count their own 
 happiness as nothing, and only esteem that of others," re- 
 plied EmUie. " Envy alloys their every enjoyment ; and 
 unless they can see everyone else around them miserable, 
 and themselves alone successfu], their satisfaction is incom- 
 plete. That is Diana's nature. She has seen you smiling, 
 and surrounded and at peace, and she entirely forgets her 
 own pleasures and circle of admirers. It only needed 
 her to see you for a moment to make her hate you, for she 
 guessed that you were happy." 
 
 " And she guessed rightly," said H61fene, gravely ; " and 
 she can hate me if she likes, for it is true that I am indeed 
 happy." 
 
 Louis longed to seize the young girl's hand and tell her 
 of the joy her words caused him, but a glance from Emilie 
 restrained him, and, with his heart full of a new-found 
 happiness, he followed in silence her who seemed to be 
 guiding him so surely to the most smiling future he could 
 wish. 
 
 Meanwhile, Lady Olifaunt was continuing the round of 
 the gallery on Clement's arm. She was no longer looking 
 at the pictures ; she was no longer even seeking acquaint- 
 ances amidst the throng ; she was meditating. At last they 
 went down the stone staircase, and passing through the 
 turnstile, left the exhibition, and re- entered the carriage. 
 As soon as she was seated, Diana turned towards Thauziat, 
 and said to him in a hard voice — 
 
 " Then that is the companion that that little fool of a Louis 
 is making love to ? She really isn't half bad-looking, and 
 I can quite understand how delighted old Madame H6rault 
 must be. A mistress in the house ! Why, it is the dream 
 
168 WILL. 
 
 of every mother ; for then the dear child does not go out 
 so much, and, instead of making him disorderly, love re- 
 forms him." 
 
 She would doubtless have continued to thus vent the 
 rage that was consuming her, had not Thauziat placed his 
 hand on her arm, and said — 
 
 " The conduct of Mademoiselle de Graville is irreproach- 
 able, and I shall esteem it a favour if you will not speak 
 of her in my presence.'' 
 
 These words came as a revelation to Diana. She uttered 
 an exclamation, and striking her parasol on the palm of 
 her hand — 
 
 " What a fool I have been ! " she cried. " I did not 
 understand before, but I have it now ! You love Made- 
 moiselle de Graville yourself, and you and Louis H6rault 
 are rivals ! You, Clement, you 1 " 
 
 He made no answer and nothing could be gathered from 
 the expression of his face, but he was nervously twist- 
 ing and untwisting his gloves, and sometimes his hand 
 clenched involuntarily. 
 
 " What a triumph for the young lady ! To agitate to 
 such a degree the handsome and invincible Thauziat ! Then 
 she resists you 'i " 
 
 "I have never uttered a word to her to lead her to 
 suspect that I love her.'' 
 
 " ' That I love her,' " repeated Diana. " I don't mind 
 telling you, Clement, that it has a singular effect upon me 
 to hear the word ' love ' from your lips applied to anyone 
 but myself." 
 
 " Are you going to be jealous of me as well as of Louis 1 " 
 asked Thauziat, with a slight smile. 
 
WILL. 169 
 
 "Well, to tell the truth, I am not most pleased with 
 the young lady. And so you crave for her with a secret 
 longing 1 That's tolerably romantic to begin with, my boy, 
 for so hard-headed a man. For the last fortnight you have 
 been suffering like a soul in torment; what can I do to 
 relieve your torture 1 Would you like me to go and ask 
 her hand for you? I shall be very pleased to play the 
 part of your mother, under the circumstances, and Lere- 
 boulley and Sir Janies could be witnesses. How would 
 that dol" 
 
 " Do not jest, Diana. The matter is too serious." 
 
 " I am speaking to you of marriage, how can I be 
 more serious than that ? You do not think of marrying ? 
 Then can you dispense with the ceremony ? " 
 
 " I wish to forget. For the first time in my life I am 
 not master of myself, and you know me well enough to 
 know what pain it causes me to find that such is the case. 
 What is a man who is at the mercy of his heart 1 Until 
 now mine has obeyed the dictates of my mind. I wish 
 to force it to obedience again, and I am going away.'' 
 
 " My dear fellow,'' returned Diana, " absence kills a 
 caprice, but invigorates a passion." 
 
 " If I suffer too acutely, I shall return. Then my re- 
 solution will be taken, and I shall do everything in my 
 power to make her I love mine." 
 
 " And if she loves another 1 " 
 
 " I hope she will not, for her sake, as for the other's, and 
 for my own." 
 
 " That's right ! Now you are becoming yourself again." 
 
 C16ment did not reply, and Diana leant back in the 
 cushioned corner of the carriage, and again gave herself 
 
170 Will. 
 
 up to her thoughts. Already she saw in her mind the 
 image of Louis returning suppliant and reconquered. With 
 cruel joy, she bound him with tight-drawn chains, and on 
 this slave, drunk with draughts from her love philters, 
 she revenged herself for the humiliation he had made her 
 suffer. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BoissiSB had undergone several changes since the day 
 Madame H6rault resolved to encamp there rather than 
 be separated from her grandson. Pierre H^rault had 
 thoroughly restored the chateau, and added to the park by 
 buying up a great deal of the surrounding property. The 
 grassy banks of a lake, dug in the middle of a meadow, 
 now stretched as far as the first trees of the forest, and, on 
 the summit of a slight elevation on an island, rose the 
 white columns of a little temple amidst the foliage, as in 
 Hubert Eoberfc's charming idylls. The walks in the park, 
 over which the thick trees formed sombre domes, were 
 lighted, in the evening, by candelabra lighted by gas brought 
 from the house. Everywhere art and progress lent their aid 
 to nature. 
 
 A wide flight of steps led into a splendid garden laid out 
 in flower-beds in the centre of each of which stood an 
 enormous vase in the shape of a basket, the handle of which 
 was formed by an arch of wire covered with climbing roses, 
 while at either end rose a cone of scarlet blossoms four 
 yards high formed of two thousand potted geraniums skil- 
 fully arranged in rows one above the other. In the borders 
 flourished azaleas bearing red flowers at the top and white 
 at the bottom, a triumph of scientific grafting. In the 
 stables, entirely reconstructed, room could be found for 
 
172 WILL. 
 
 twenty horses on hunt days, and early in the autumn the 
 woods were alive with pheasants. 
 
 This magnificent estate had scarcely been used since 
 Pierre H6rault's death, though the staff of servants re- 
 mained the same. Every spring the gardeners put the 
 park walks in order, planted the beds with flowers, mowed 
 the lawns and sprinkled them for days together with an 
 ingenious system of watering. Every summer the keepers 
 saw that the preserves were stocked with the same number 
 of partridges and pheasants. In short, everything was 
 always ready to receive the masters, and yet Boissise was 
 forsaken. Louis generally took down a few friends for a 
 week at the beginning of the shooting season, then he 
 went away again and did not return until the following 
 year. 
 
 To him, existence in this great chateau would have been 
 unbearable, UterbrtUe with Madame H6rault. In vain had 
 Lereboulley stayed for two months at his country seat, 
 his society did not possess sufficient attraction for Louis, 
 who had not, like the senator, important political interests 
 to fill his time for weeks together in Eure. He had no 
 popularity to maintain, no influence to gain, no electoral 
 circuits to undertake, and time hung heavy on his hands 
 when he could not pass the evening in a stall, or at the 
 club, or the house of some fair, though frail, friend. At 
 the end of a week, his longing to inhale Parisian air be- 
 came irresistible, and he had but one idea — to order the 
 carriage, fly from the mysterious stillness of the woods and 
 the limitless greenness of the meadows, and return to town, 
 where all was noise and no view was without its limit. 
 
 Louis discovered in Boissise, for the first time, fascina- 
 
WILL. 173 
 
 tions hitherto unknown to him, when he saw Mademoiselle 
 de Graville there. He no longer felt as before an ennui 
 that had no remedy, and he wondered at finding the soli- 
 tude less overwhelming, without understanding that he him- 
 self was peopling the chi,teau with his dreams and hopes. 
 With H61fene he visited pleasure-grounds, kitchen-gardens, 
 and farms, taking a lively interest in all the things to 
 which before he had been perfectly indifferent. It amazed 
 him to find how universal was Mademoiselle de Graville's 
 knowledge, for, having passed the first sixteen years of 
 her life in the country, she knew all the secrets of garden- 
 ing and farming, and to this Parisian, who could not tell 
 a field of wheat from a field of oats, she seemed a wonder. 
 
 "Mademoiselle de Graville is simply marvellous, she 
 knows everything ! " he said one day to Madame H6rault in 
 a burst of admiration. 
 
 The old lady did not contradict him. She herself was 
 not very far from believing that every perfection was 
 united in the young girl, and, fired by her grandson's 
 enthusiasm, she joined the young people in their strolls 
 and did the honours of her hothouses. But it happened 
 that Louis found no pleasure in listening to his grand- 
 mother's explanations. He began to think that horticul- 
 ture was decidedly not so interesting as it seemed, and that 
 discussions on flowers were only worth listening to when 
 they were uttered by certain lips. The evening before he 
 had passed a delightful hour looking at the common wall- 
 flowers and sweet peas which twined around the trees in the 
 yard before the household offices ; now he yawned enough 
 to dislocate his jaws in the orchid-house before beautiful 
 monstrosities worth two thousand francs a pot, and he 
 
174 WILL. 
 
 was therefore forced to come to the conclusion that all his 
 pleasure was derived from Hdl^ne's companionship alone, 
 and that he only cared for strolls in the garden when they 
 offered him the advantage of being entirely alone with her. 
 The presence of a third person spoilt it all, even if that 
 third was only his grandmother, who certainly was not very 
 much in the way but who committed the unpardonable 
 offence of making H^lfene keep on her best behaviour, and 
 S9 preventing her from giving vent to all her naive and 
 charming exuberance of spirits. 
 
 Tor, now she had returned to the woods and fields 
 amidst which her childhood had been passed. Mademoiselle 
 de Graville's happiness was complete, and lent a fresh bril- 
 liancy to her severe beauty. The pallor with which days of 
 hard work in a small, close room had bespread her cheeks 
 gave place to a healthy glow, and her eyes shone yet more 
 brightly than before. And there was as great a transfor- 
 mation in her mental as in her physical qualities. Her 
 nature, until then curbed and repressed by care and worry, 
 expanded in this congenial atmosphere like a plant in the 
 warmth of spring after the icy, wintry winds, and the grave 
 curves of her mouth disappeared in smiles, her reserve 
 changed to light-hearted gaiety. Her happiness made her 
 perfectly irresistible, and Madame Herault and Louis 
 watched the metamorphosis in delighted wonder and 
 taking all the credit of it to themselves, became the more 
 attached to the girl they considered in some part their 
 handiwork. The old grandmother glowed with maternal 
 pride as she saw the pretty figure develop and become each 
 day more graceful and more elegant, while Louis was fairly 
 dazzled by H^lfene's intellect and powers of imagination, 
 
WILL. 175 
 
 which, delivered from the yoke of poverty, had nothing to 
 restrain their power and daintiness. 
 
 In a few days Emilie Lereboulley, who was at Evreux 
 with her father, came to stay at Boissise, and then the 
 young people passed their whole time out of doors. They 
 all three drove over the country in Emilie's little pony- 
 cihaise, drawn by a short-legged, sturdy Irish cob, and one 
 day passed the famous cross-road where Mademoiselle Lere- 
 boulley had met Louis for the first time and where he 
 had helped her to get her carriage out of the mud. They 
 went pic-nicking to the ruins of Saint- Wulfrand, happy 
 as school-children turned loose amidst the thick trees of 
 the forest where the deep silence was only broken by 
 the plaintive call of the cuckoo, or the startled noisy flight 
 of a jay. 
 
 They rambled through the lanes in silence, tired and 
 drowsy from being in the open air, but happy at being 
 together, and as delighted as if they had been saying the 
 tenderest words to each other, so full of joy were their hearts. 
 When they sat down on a bank, at the foot of a great oak 
 through whose branches filtered the golden sunlight, Louis 
 passed hours stealthily gazing at H^l^ne. He would have 
 liked to throw himself at her feet, and say to her, " I adore 
 you. Be mine, and make my life an eternity of love ; " but 
 he was restrained by the effort it would need to speak to 
 her, the indecision of his nature, the fear of disturbing the 
 harmony of these blissful days. " What would be the 
 good 1 " he thought. " I have plenty of time, and, besides, 
 should I be any happier if she were my wife 1 What greater 
 felicity could I possess than I- already have ? " 
 
 The love he felt for H616ne was, for the first time since 
 
176 WILL. 
 
 he was aware he possessed a heart, perfectly pure. He 
 admired and loved the young girl, but there was something 
 very fraternal in his affection, and, if they had ever lost 
 themselves in the woods, he could have passed the whole 
 night beside her in a woodcutter's hut without feeling the 
 least desire to take her in his arms. It would have been a 
 bitter grief to him if anyone had suggested to him that he 
 might lose her, that another might cause her the moral de- 
 light he was experiencing himself, for he could not now 
 have lived without her. And yet he was not ready 
 to attempt everything in the world to call her his own. 
 There was a certain maidenly majesty about her which 
 awed him. He regarded her somewhat as a goddess, with 
 whom mortals had no right to take too much liberty. His 
 love was largely mingled with respect, and this respect, 
 which he had never before felt for a young and pretty 
 woman, sealed his lips. 
 
 It was yet impossible for anyone to be more simple, more 
 natural or more gay than was Mademoiselle de Graville. 
 Her haughtiness, which was really only shyness, had dis- 
 appeared, and she treated Louis as a brother, showing him 
 a slight deference which was the outcome of her gratitude 
 towards the child of her who had rescued her from poverty. 
 She had a sincere affection for H6rault, an affection which 
 had sprung from the dreams of former days and the reality 
 of the present. For her, he was always the slight, pale 
 young man who used to traverse the courtyard of the man- 
 sion, dressed in deep mourning for his father, and whom she 
 used to follow with eyes full of affectionate pity. He had 
 not changed since then, although he was no longer sad. He 
 had the same careless walk, the same graceful, slightly 
 
WILL. 177 
 
 eifeminate carriage, the same gentle look, and she found him 
 as she had thought him — weak and easily led, yet capable 
 of every violence when he felt himself supported, a man in 
 years, but a child in character, needing guidance in life to 
 save him falling a prey to fools and knaves. 
 
 She knew now, from what she had heard said before her, 
 the importance of the industrial interests which were under 
 the control of this feeble hand, and she saw, with vexation, 
 how entirely they were abandoned. How could the son of 
 a great manufacturer leave the direction of his workshops 
 to strangers and pass his life in idleness instead of himself 
 keeping the vast machine in motion 1 Oh ! If she had 
 been a man, and such a task had fallen to her share, with 
 what zeal would she have devoted to it all the resources of 
 her mind ! Sometimes she spoke thus before Louis, though 
 she was always careful not to hurt him by frankly express- 
 ing her opinion, in which he merited so much blame. But 
 she endeavoured to sting and spur him on to see if she 
 could arouse him to a pitch of energy. 
 
 " A man's first duty is to work/' she would say. " What 
 is a man who does nothing ? " 
 
 " A man who does nothing is a man who enjoys life, who 
 wanders in the woods, reclines in the shade, and who 
 talks to you all the evening, Mademoiselle Hel^ne ; in fact, 
 he is a happy man," Louis replied, with a smile. 
 
 " But is he of any use 1 " 
 
 " Of a great deal to himself." 
 
 "But is that enough?" 
 
 " That is a matter of opinion." 
 
 " Well, supposing you were poor, Monsieur H6rault ? " 
 
 " I should do like everybody else — try not to be. But, 
 
 M 
 
178 WILL. 
 
 fortunately, my father and my grandfather saw to that 
 before me." 
 
 " And you leave the great interests they have bequeathed 
 you to get on as best they can. Every fortune which does 
 not augment, diminishes, as Monsieur LerebouUey so truly 
 said the other day. Do you wish to end by coming to 
 ruin t " 
 
 " I shall always have enough as long as I want anything. 
 If I had any heirs, if, in my turn, I became the head of a 
 family, perhaps my ideas would change. Bat, at present, 
 for whom should I be toiling 1 I do not like work for its 
 own sake. I can quite understand working for anyone 
 dear to me, for a wife or a child, for instance, but to work 
 merely for the sake of doing something, or to make money, 
 no, I don't feel that that is my vocation." 
 
 Then Emilie, with her sarcastic smile, put an end to the 
 discussion — 
 
 " Little H^rault, you are a degenerate descendant of the 
 big and of the middle H&ault. You will be sure to come 
 to nothing, my fine friend, unless you have a strong hand 
 to maintain and guide you. And after all, is it not really 
 only right that the enormous wealth you possess should 
 return to those who pass their lives in daily toil 1 Oh, 
 don't get scared, and set me down as a socialist. It has 
 been proved that in our time fortunes never last for more 
 than three generations. The grandfather makes it, the son 
 keeps it, and the grandson dissipates it. You are the 
 grandson, Louis H^rault-Gandon, and you have shown you 
 know how to fling money away by running through all your 
 mother left you. The rest will go the same way, unless 
 your hands are very securely tied ! " 
 
WILL. 179 
 
 " Thank you. Do you want anything for all that advice 1 " 
 
 " It is gratis, dear boy. Profit by it, if you can, though 
 there is very little probability that you will." 
 
 Sometimes, Louis, driven to extremities by the two girls' 
 arguments, would say, with pretended gravity — 
 
 " Very well. I will return to Paris and go to the factory, 
 if that will give you any satisfaction." 
 
 To which Emilie would reply — 
 
 " Oh, don't do that. You would get hot and tired in the 
 train, you would go to the club in the evening and lose 
 a thousand or so louis at baccarat, and then be back 
 here to dinner the very next day, so what would be the 
 good of setting off 1 " 
 
 Louis laughed, and they went out for a walk. 
 
 But H61fene was not satisfied. She thought Emilie was 
 not in earnest enough with H^rault, and it hurt her to see 
 Mademoiselle Lereboulley always afiect to treat him as a big 
 child with no will of his own. It seemed like an insult to 
 herself to doubt the abilities of her benefactress's grandson. 
 She spoke of it to Madame H6rault, who agreed with her, 
 for she, the old grandmother, also wished to see the heir do 
 a deed worthy of a man, and prove at last that the vigorous 
 blood of his family was in his veins. 
 
 'She had always hoped that Louis, after sowing the wild 
 oats of his youth, would reform and become steady, and the 
 marvellous change which she had noticed in him within 
 the last few weeks seemed to indicate that what she had 
 hoped for was about to come to pass. He was evidently 
 going to reform, but it would not do to ask too much of him 
 all at once. He had taken a fancy to domestic life. He, 
 who had always been away for months together, rushing 
 
180 WILL. 
 
 from one watering-place to another, passing the summer at 
 Trouville, the winter at Monaco, gambling, dining, making 
 life one perpetual f^te, and being seen everywhere except 
 at his own home, now stayed at home and seemed quite 
 happy there. That was so decided an advance in the right 
 direction, that it would be dangerous to demand more for 
 fear of losing all. 
 
 "You see, my dear," said Madame Herault, "here 
 we are sure of him, whereas if he were at Paris, it would 
 only need a bad inspiration to make him commit more 
 foUies. Do not let us send him to town, where he has 
 friends who gain his money from him at the club, without 
 speaking of other bad acquaintances. Let us keep him here, 
 it will be his salvation. As long as we have him with us, 
 he is out of the way of all danger." 
 
 Then old Madame Herault sighed and glanced at 
 the young girl, without venturing to say what was in her 
 mind. But, in her heart of hearts, she longed for her 
 grandson to make up his mind to marry Helfene. What 
 did it matter if the latter was poor? Her strong, clear 
 sense and the ever-increasing influence she possessed over 
 Louis were more than equivalent to a dowry, for they con- 
 stituted a wealth which could not be taken away and 
 of which safety and happiness would be the interest. And 
 then in giving Mademoiselle de Graville part of their 
 fortune the Hferaults would only be paying off a debt con- 
 tracted sixty years ago, and repaying the descendant for 
 the help rendered by the ancestors. These thoughts were 
 continually in her mind, but she said nothing of them 
 either to her grandson, whose good inclinations she was 
 afraid of upsetting, or to H^lfene, whose suspicions she did 
 
WILL. 181 
 
 not wish to arouse. She trusted to the close intercourse 
 engendered by the country, to the intimacy fostered by 
 walks in the woods, to the very pleasure of existing, caused 
 by the bright sun, pure air, and perfume of the flowers, to 
 bring about the result she desired. 
 
 In the meantime, to prevent existence at Boissise being 
 too cloister-like, Madame H6rault scattered invitations 
 broadcast, and with LerebouUey's aid managed to make 
 life very gay. The neighbouring chateaux did all they 
 could to assist, the regiment at Evreux contributed its 
 most dashing officers, and every week there were gatherings 
 at which the guests devoted themselves to boating, fishing, 
 pigeon shooting, lawn tennis, or dancing according to their 
 several tastes. 
 
 In this way passed the summer, and August arrived. 
 Madame H^rault's birthday was on the tenth, and Louis 
 determined to give a brilliant f^te to celebrate it. Invita- 
 tions were sent far and wide, some even reaching Paris, 
 and the chateau was filled with guests for the first time 
 that season ; it was like a return to the days of Pierre 
 H6rault, when Boissise used to be filled with different relays 
 of guests every week, as in a royal abode. The programme 
 of amusements had been arranged by Louis and Emilie. 
 There were to be fireworks in the evening (the set pieces 
 were erected the evening before), and a ball was to be given 
 for the villagers in a marquee which entirely covered 
 the large lawn in the park, while bands were to be placed 
 on the lake, in boats hung with Venetian lanterns. In- 
 doors there was to be a dinner-party, to which forty guests 
 were invited. 
 
 At five o'clock, just when the scene was presenting the 
 
182 WILL. 
 
 most animated appearance, Lereboulley, who never lost an 
 opportunity of increasing his influence over the husbands by 
 making love to their wives, arrived, dressed in light grey 
 trousers, white waistcoat and a blue coat, which, according 
 to Emilie, looked at once festive and dignified amongst the 
 red coats of the younger men. After the first compliments 
 and salutations had been exchanged, he crossed the lawn, 
 where an exciting game of tennis was going on, and ap- 
 proaching a group, in the centre of which stood Madame 
 H6rault and H6lfene, said — 
 
 "I- hope I have not done wrong, but I have invited 
 another guest whom you did not expect. If there is no 
 room for him at dinner, you can put him at a little table 
 with Emilie." 
 
 " Who is it ? " asked Madame H6rault, a little astonished 
 at this unceremonious disposal of the new-comer. 
 
 " Thauziat," answered the senator. 
 
 There followed an embarrassed silence, during which 
 Louis, H616ne, and Emilie exchanged glances which plainly 
 expressed their feelings. For the moment the sympathy 
 between them was so complete that they could not have 
 learnt more from one another if each had confided to the 
 other what had been passing through their minds for the last 
 two months. Clement's unexpected arrival was a cause for 
 fear to each one of them. Louis shuddered as he thought 
 that his friend had doubtless returned because of H^16ne. 
 Emilie bitterly thought that Thauziat was about to make a 
 supreme eff'ort to obtain Mademoiselle de Graville's heart. 
 H^lfene herself saw in the reappearance of his sombre face 
 a threat against Louis' safety and her own happiness. 
 
 Lereboulley continued his explanation : 
 
WILL. 183 
 
 " He arrived just now by the express, and, taking a fly, 
 entered my study just as I was coming here. I wanted 
 to bring him with me without any ceremony, but he would 
 not consent in case he might be intruding. As if he were not 
 as much at home here as he is at my place ! In short, I 
 made the arrangement that if you would have him I would 
 send back my carriage for him, and if not,, he is to dine 
 alone and come on here this evening.'' 
 
 " Send back the carriage at once," said Madame H^rault. 
 " He must be one of our party, even if we have to squeeze 
 a Uttle." 
 
 Louis turned to H^lfene and gazed at her with entreating 
 eyes. He was a little pale, and never had he so openly 
 shown her that he loved her. The young girl's heart was 
 filled with an exquisite rapture, and she ventured to smile 
 at him, as she held her head erect and looked him full in 
 the face, as though to say : " Fear nothing, I am yours and 
 yours only, and all the Don Juans on earth could not de- 
 prive you of what belongs to you." But he sadly bent his 
 head. He knew C16ment, and he was afraid. H61^ne 
 pitied him, and, turning to EmUie, she said — 
 
 "Will you walk round to the ball-room with us? It 
 would bo as well to see if the decorations have been carried 
 out as you proposed." 
 
 She took Louis' arm without waiting for him to offer it, 
 and they all three walked down the shady alleys of the park, 
 gathering from their memories of the delightful, cloudless 
 days that were gone, strength with which to face the tem- 
 pest. The only sounds they could hear were the merry 
 shouts of the tennis-players, and, after the bustle and move- 
 ment of the lawn, the still darkness of the leafy, perfumed 
 
184 WILL. 
 
 paths gave them a sense of delicious repose. They did not 
 go as far as the marquee, for they knew H61fene's proposal 
 had been but a pretext to be by themselves, and when 
 it was no longer possible for them to remain away from 
 their guests they slowly and in silence retraced their steps. 
 
 Evening was closing in, and the rooms in the chateau were 
 ablaze with light. They went up the steps; entered the 
 house, and the first, the only, person they saw was the man 
 whose presence they so much dreaded, talking to Madame 
 H^rault, as he stood by the fire-place. He was thinner, 
 and therefore looked even taller than before. There were 
 hollows in his handsome face, and a few silver threads 
 shone amidst his black hair ; but he smiled and his eyes 
 brightened as he saw his friend and the two girls. He 
 crossed over to Louis with outstretched hand, and it was 
 impossible to doubt his truth and openness after the warm, 
 close pressure of that hand. 
 
 Perhaps he had returned to conquer H61fene, but at any 
 rate he was not going to use any underhand means to pro- 
 cure his victory. He must have felt some hope, for his- 
 face was beaming ; indeed, Helfene had never seen him look 
 so bright before. Ever since the first evening she had met 
 him, she had always seen him worried and preoccupied ; 
 now she saw the Thauziat who was invariably triumphant, 
 the Thauziat whose elegance was supreme, whose wit so 
 dazzling, whose manners were so tender, so nearly irre- 
 sistible. Even the white streaks in his hair were an im- 
 provement, for being near the temples they gave him an 
 air of gentleness he had never had before. 
 
 " I think you are a little changed," said Emilie, gazing 
 at him sadly. " Have you been ill during your absence 1 " 
 
WILL. 185 
 
 " Yes, I have had a great deal to worry me, and some 
 serious decisions to arrive at. But that is all over now. I 
 have made up my mind what to do." 
 
 They all three glanced at one another. Did he mean 
 them to understand that though he had adored H^lfene, yet 
 he had decided to give her up 1 Or else, with his usual 
 proud frankness, was he boldly waving his standard before 
 them and making a declaration of war 1 
 
 He did not speak much to H^ltoe in particular, neither 
 did he utter before lier one word which could throw any 
 light upon the situation. He spoke of the sport he had 
 had, and told of the immense pine forests where the trees 
 are so big that when one is blown down across the path 
 ladders have to be used to climb over the trunk ; of his 
 morning halts on the top of some mountain to await the 
 dawn and the awakening of the heath-cock ; of his excur- 
 sions over arid peaks and along deep ravines in search of 
 the chamois, so quick to suspect a danger, and of the ter- 
 rified bounds of the animal, which would cling to the edge 
 of a precipice with its trembling feet when the ball had 
 reached it and then fall, gasping, at the hunter's feet. 
 And this man of refinement, for whom Parisian luxury was 
 never dainty enough, said that he had passed two delightful 
 weeks in a hut thatched with branches, sleeping on a bed 
 of dry ferns on the top of the Arlberg, with the rough 
 peasants who served as beaters as his only companions, and 
 the game that fell by his gun as his only food. He had 
 almost lost the consciousness of his own identity amid these 
 lonely woods and inaccessible rocks, and all care had left 
 him in the presence of nature under this wild aspect. 
 
 He found the words of a poet to express his impressions. 
 
186 WILL. 
 
 and for the time held his audience spell-bound. For them, 
 all vanished save himself and his words, and he absorbed 
 into his own personality all those present, as the dawning 
 sun absorbs the clouds and rises in all its dazzling splend- 
 our into the empty heavens. 
 
 For an hour there was not one man present but was 
 jealous of him, not a woman but rendered homage to his 
 incontestable superiority. He was what he wished to be — 
 supreme, and he gave the woman, for whom he was thus 
 displaying all the treasures of his mind, an unanswerable 
 proof of his prestige and his power. Longing for love, he 
 wished to show he was worthy of being loved. But was 
 all this display necessary 'i Does not a woman's heart 
 alway find arguments with which to triumph over the most 
 logical reasoning of her mind 1 
 
 "My dear CMment, there is no one equal to you," said 
 the delighted Madame H^rault, without dreaming, inno- 
 cent old lady, that she was firing on her own troops, and 
 she continued to overwhelm him with compliments and 
 gracious speeches until dinner was announced. 
 
 The meal was long and dull, the number of guests pre- 
 venting the conversation becoming general. Louis had the 
 prefect's wife on his right, and an old dowager on his left, 
 and he did his best to entertain them but all his attention 
 was centred on H&lhne, who was beside LerebouUey, and 
 Thauziat, who was sitting next to Emilia. The forces being 
 thus divided all combat became impossible, and besides, if 
 an encounter was to take place, it would be better to choose 
 a more favourable place and opportunity. 
 
 Still everyone felt relieved when dinner came to an end 
 and they could at last leave the table. It was intolerably 
 
WILL. 187 
 
 hot indoors, while on the terrace there was a delicious 
 breeze, so in a few minutes everyone had gone outside, and 
 the drawing-rooms were deserted. The guests who were 
 not staying in the house were to arrive in the evening, and 
 Louis, who was on the rack, was compelled to remain with 
 his grandmother to receive them. 
 
 He felt that in the falling shadows Thauziat would re- 
 gain the complete liberty of his actions, that he would be 
 able to walk with H6lfene and talk to her, and that Emilie's 
 presence would be no obstacle in his path. He had seen 
 him so often before in similar cases, he knew so well his 
 method of attack which, in one hour, would bring to his 
 arms women blinded by an inexplicable infatuation. And 
 he turned pale with impatience as he strained his eyes to 
 look into the darkness and his ears to listen to every sound 
 from outside, and only succeeded in seeing the sky crim- 
 soned by the illuminations and hearing the shouts and 
 laughter of the throng. Where were they ? What were 
 they doing 1 What were they saying 1 After an hour of 
 such suspense he could bear it no longer, and, drawing 
 Madame H6rault with him, he went into the garden. 
 
 The first rockets were just being let off, and every now 
 and then a bright light succeeded to the darkness and the 
 groups of people could be seen as plainly as in broad day- 
 light. Louis hastily glanced around the terrace. He 
 could see neither H^lfene, Emilie, nor Thauziat, and, with 
 sinking heart, he stood still, not daring to go in search 
 of them, and yet feeling sure that during these moments of 
 horrible torture his fate was being decided. A hand placed 
 upon his shoulder aroused him from his terrible inaction, 
 and, turning round, he saw Emilie, looking pale and grave. 
 
188 WILL. 
 
 He opened his mouth to ask, " "Where are they?" but she 
 seemed to know the anguish he must be suffering, for, 
 before he could utter the words, she said, pointing in the 
 direction of the lake, 
 
 " They are there." 
 
 Then he distinguished, amongst the many other confused 
 forms, CMment's tall figure and Hflfene's white dress beside 
 it. They were leaning over the stone balustrade. 
 
 " Why have you not stopped with them 1 " asked Louis. 
 
 Emilie sadly smiled. 
 
 " Because I should have been as much a restraint upon 
 their conversation as you would be yourself. They are 
 talking ; let them do so." 
 
 A sharp, burning pain shot through Louis' breast, the 
 tears sprang to his eyes, and he dropped on to a marble 
 seat. 
 
 " Must I then give up all hope 1 " he murmured. " Am 
 I going to lose her 1 " 
 
 " Who can boast of knowing a woman's heart ? " said 
 Emilies, seating herself beside him. "H^lfene is one of 
 those girls who do not tell what is in their minds until 
 they have decided to speak out,' and who do not do any- 
 thing they do not choose to do. Thauziat was bound to 
 love her. Her nature is the exact counterpart of his own, 
 and if he marries her chance wiU never before have united 
 two halves which joined so perfectly to form the unity 
 termed marriage." 
 
 Louis clenched his fists, and angrily raised his head. 
 
 "You exasperate me with your philosophy," he cried. 
 "I should like to go and find Clement and insult him — 
 strike him — " 
 
. WILL. 189 
 
 " What right have you to do so 'i Have you any claim 
 that you should try and prevent Hdlfene loving him 1 " 
 
 " I mean to try and kill him if she prefers him to me ! " 
 
 "If it were necessary to spill blood each time the heart 
 meets a rebuff," said Emilie gently, " I should have caused 
 a river to flow, I who have never been the object of any- 
 thing but ridicule or contempt." 
 
 " But what do you want me to do 1 " 
 
 "Nothing. You are not a man to rule fate, but to 
 submit to it. Within the last month you have had twenty 
 opportunities of telling H61^ne you love her, but you merely 
 gave way to the pleasurable feeling of being in love and 
 found that enough for you. It needed the appearance of 
 a rival to make you appreciate the treasure you treated so 
 lightly. And now you shout and threaten. But why ? 
 Mademoiselle de Graville is perfectly free to make her 
 choice. You surely are not foolish enough to think that 
 the little for which she is indebted to you binds her in any 
 way ? She has done more for you by living in your house 
 than you have done for her by raising her from poverty. 
 By what right could you throw yourself between her and 
 Thauziat 1 Are you her brother or her betrothed ? " 
 
 "It is easy for you to talk," said Louis, angrily. " But 
 if you were in love — " 
 
 "11" cried Emilie, and her fierce look startled the young 
 man. "IV 
 
 She burst into a terrible laugh, which displayed her 
 sharp teeth. 
 
 " You are right ! I do not love. I am condemned to 
 have only friendship, never love. But I care very much 
 for my friends, and, as much as I can, I try to help them. 
 
190 WILL. 
 
 as I am proving to you by keeping you here with me. 
 Now, will you let me give you one word of good advice 1 
 Do not interfere with what is going on, and it will be the 
 better for you. Let the others act ; you stay still. There 
 are times when the greatest generalship is shown in doing 
 nothing. And, besides, with your character, even if H^lfene 
 should love Clement, you will soon console yourself — " 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " Oh, I know your ' nevers ' and ' for evers.' They last 
 just about a week. There, don't exclaim, the happiest 
 people are those who forget. I only pity those who 
 remember." 
 
 But Louis had started forward, and was listening to her 
 no longer, so she followed him. 
 
 H61^ne had inclined her head to Thauziat, and then 
 slowly walked back to the terrace, while he accompanied 
 her with the greatest respect in his manner. As they 
 approached them, Emilie and Louis saw that he was 
 smiling, but that H61ene looked very grave. 
 
 " It is a long time since you last saw Mademoiselle de 
 Graville," said Emilie to Clement ; " and I suppose you 
 had a great many things to tell her, for you have been 
 talking to her for over an hour." 
 
 " So long as that ? " he answered, looking at Helene. 
 " I should not have thought it." 
 
 " Your conversation must have been very interesting," 
 broke in Louis, who was pale with repressed annoyance. 
 
 " It was very interesting," said H616ne, with a calmness 
 which terrified H^rault, for to him it meant a sentence of 
 death pronounced upon his love. " Monsieur de Thauziat 
 has been speaking to me of my native place and of people 
 
WILL. 191 
 
 I once knew, and he has asked me for some information, 
 which I hope I shall soon be able to give him." 
 
 " To-morrow 1 " asked Clement. 
 
 " Yes, to-morrow," answered Mademoiselle de Graville. 
 
 They exchanged a look, which made Louis' blood boil. 
 He understood that he was being deceived, and that the 
 words he had just heard had a double meaning. But he 
 contained himself in spite of his trembling limbs, his 
 throbbing temples and his parched lips, hoping that some 
 chance word might furnish him with the opportunity of 
 letting the torrent of his rage pour forth. But this word 
 was not uttered, for the time had come to visit the open-air 
 ball, and Lereboulley coming up with Madame Herault, the 
 old lady took H^16ne's arm, upon which she loved to lean, 
 and the others followed in what order they chose. 
 
 From the terrace to the lawn, the central walk was 
 lighted up with gas until it was as light as broad day. The 
 birds, kept awake by the unusual light, flew in terror from 
 branch to branch, and at the surface of the lake enormous 
 carp were following the glittering, flashing boats, thinking 
 it was day. In the portion of the park set aside for the 
 public, open-air buffets had been erected, and the place was 
 crowded with villagers and townspeople, while here and 
 there the uniforms of the soldiers, who had obtained leave 
 to come, made a bright dash of colour amidst the sombre 
 clothes of the civilians. 
 
 In the marquee, dancing had commenced, and a hundred 
 couples were whirling round to the strains of an orchestra 
 placed on a platform. Country dances had been tabooed 
 and they were all dancing polkas and waltzes as in town. 
 There was a great deal of amusement going on, but 
 
192 WILL. 
 
 everyone seemed to be chiefly thinking of the efiect he 
 or she was producing. Because the carpenter from Boissise 
 had wanted to put himself at his ease and take off his coat, 
 on account of the heat, and talk and laugh in a noisy way, 
 the steward of the chS,teau had put him outside, and he 
 could still be heard loudly endeavouring to explain. The 
 girls were walking about in their light dresses, with airs of 
 mincing affectation, and there was a general element of stiff- 
 ness in all this pleasure instead of the unceremonious 
 freedom which was usual. 
 
 When Madame H^rault appeared with her friends 
 she was greeted with loud cheers, and Lereboulley, who 
 could not see a dozen people together in his department 
 without beginning to speak, made a little speech in which he 
 extolled the H^rault family. Then he praised the govern- 
 ment, of which he was one of the shining lights, and 
 managed to end up with the word : Kepublic. At that, the 
 orchestra struck up a stirring air, but the Marseillaise was 
 not heard, as Madame H^rault's steward had warned the 
 leader beforehand that if he made use of his band to call 
 up anything connected with politics, he would find himself 
 minus any pay. 
 
 Madame Hdrault remained for a short time to watch the 
 enjoyment of those for whose pleasure she had so liberally 
 provided, and then, feeling a little fatigued, returned to the 
 chateau. 
 
 Dancing then began in the large drawing-room, but 
 in a calm, pleasureless sort of way, for those who might 
 have infused gaiety into the party were all either too 
 abstracted or too heavy-hearted to do so. For two hours 
 the band continued playing, and H61fene danced two or 
 
WILL. 193 
 
 three times in performance of her duty, hut neither with 
 Thauziat nor with Louis, both of whom avoided seeking her 
 as a partner. She, on her side, evidently agitated in spite 
 of the command she had over herself, kept near Emilie, who 
 respected her friend's preoccupation and only addressed 
 her every now and then upon indifferent subjects. 
 
 About one o'clock the two girls went outside. It was an 
 exquisite night and the deep blue sky was glittering with 
 stars while the trees in the park were silvered by the pale 
 light of the moon, now far above the horizon. The lakes 
 were silent and deserted, and the music in the tent sounded 
 far away. An intense peacefulness reigned around, and the 
 calm serenity, where everything was overwhelmed by the 
 majestic immensity of space, formed a strange and striking 
 contrast to the restlessness of human beings. ' The illu- 
 minations were dying out and the noisy music of the band 
 sounded like a murmur. A soft, cool breeze kissed the 
 fevered brow, and the eyes lost themselves in contemplation 
 of this still beauty as did the mind in thought. 
 
 For some time H^lfene and Emilie stood leaning against 
 the iron balustrade in silence. Then Mademoiselle Lere- 
 boulley heard a sigh which made her look up and she 
 noticed that H61^ne was pale and agitated. 
 
 "Is it what Monsieur de Thauziat said to you that 
 is troubling you so ? " she asked gently, taking her com- 
 panion's hand. 
 
 " Yes," was all H^lfene answered. 
 
 " He told you that he loved you ? " 
 
 " He asked me to be his wife." 
 
 There was another silence between them. Emilie's heart 
 beat so wildly that it felt as though it would burst its 
 
194 WILL. 
 
 bonds. The terrible momerit had come, the moment when 
 all her courage and all her honour were to be put to the 
 proof. Morally she felt calm and mistress of herself, and 
 her anguish was not so great as she might have feared. 
 She was transported by a thirst for self-sacrifice, a longing 
 for martyrdom which rendered tolerable the torture of hear- 
 ing that the man she loved loved another, and of hearing 
 it from this very other woman's lips. Her body quivered, 
 but her mind, throwing ofi' its fleshly chains, rose pure and 
 proud above all human suffering, and she felt a thrill 
 of pride and intense delight at finding herself so noble and 
 so great. It was her soul's sublime revenge for her physical 
 inferiority and disgrace. 
 
 " Louis also loves you," she resumed. " He has never 
 told you so, but you must know it." 
 
 "I do know it." 
 
 "Then is that the cause of your agitation and your 
 trouble?" 
 
 "In my whole life, which has yet been filled with serious 
 and painful events, I have never found myself obliged to 
 decide about anything of so grave a nature. I have fought 
 against dejection and despair; I have struggled against 
 poverty and temptation; I have always had courage and 
 decision ; but then my own interests alone were in question. 
 The resolutions that I took in no way influenced the future 
 or affected the happiness of others. As long as you have only 
 yourself to consider and answer for, you are brave ; but as 
 soon as you feel the weight of a moral responsibility upon 
 your shoulders, you hesitate as to the course to pursue. 
 For an hour this evening have I listened to Monsieur de 
 Thauziat's words of love, and for two months have I seen 
 
WILL. 195 
 
 Monsieur H^rault become daily more assiduous in his atten- 
 tions to me, although I have offered him no encouragement. 
 The heads of most girls would be turned by such a triumph 
 as to be loved by these two men. Most women would be 
 delighted, but to me it is a source of sadness. My answer 
 must of necessity cause grief and disappointment to one or 
 the other, and I ask myself if it would not be better for 
 me to leave this house, where I shall only have occasioned 
 sorrow and vexation." 
 
 " But what difference would it make if you did go away 1 
 Do you imagine that Thauziat and Louis would be unable 
 to find you again 1 Or is it that you do not wish to marry 1 
 If that is so, there is an end of the thing, and there will 
 only be two unfortunates instead of one. But if you are 
 not sworn to celibacy, then you ought to make your choice 
 and either accept Thauziat or aUow Louis to make his 
 declaration." 
 
 Emilie uttered these last words as rapidly as if they 
 burnt her lips. Then, passing her hand over her forehead, 
 she said in her bantering way : 
 
 " Come, my dear, do you intend to be an old maid 1 " 
 
 " In the humble position in which I was, I never thought 
 of marrying, but I feel no repugnance at the thought of 
 becoming a wife." 
 
 "WeUthen?" 
 
 " It is not merely by choice that I have spoken to you 
 on this subject. I have just had a proof that Monsieur 
 Herault has no secrets from you, and I am aware that you 
 know Monsieur Thauziat, who is so intimate with your 
 father, extremely well. You have shown me sympathy, 
 and I think you like me. Then, do me a great service. 
 
196 WILL. 
 
 Dissipate the darkness with which I am surrounded by the 
 light of your reason. Help me with your advice." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " laughed Emilie, but her laugh was forced. " Is 
 that what you want me to do 1 You wish me to tell you 
 to which of your two lovers to give the apple ? Ha, ha ! It 
 is the judgment of Paris reversed, and I, of course, am 
 Venus 1 Upon my word, a charming idea ! Louis or 
 Thauziat? Thauziat or Louis? What is the good of 
 choosing ? Why not toss for them ? " 
 
 Her laughter, which had become almost convulsive, died 
 away in a sob. 
 
 " Good heavens ! What is the matter," cried Hdl^ne in 
 terror, as she caught Emilie by the shoulders, thinking she 
 was going to faint. 
 
 "Nothing," replied Mademoiselle LerebouUey, pushing 
 her friend away. " Leave me to myself, and do not speak 
 to me. I am only foolish. I shall be better in a moment." 
 
 She drew out her handkerchief and hid her face to pre- 
 vent H^lene, who was gazing at her in amazement, seeing 
 her tears. For some minutes she wept bitterly, clinging to 
 the iron rail to keep herself from falling, then, wiping her 
 eyes with a gesture of pride, she turned her pale but tran- 
 quil face towards Mademoiselle de Graville : 
 
 " You have done right to come to me," she said ; " for 
 from no one could you have received advice more frank or 
 more disinterested. You have lived in constant companion- 
 ship with Louis, and you know his character exactly. His 
 is essentially a superficial nature, and he has nothing more 
 in him than you can see. He is good-hearted but very 
 weak, and, incapable of wilfully hurting anyone, he coulcl 
 yet make a woman intensely miserable from mere thought- 
 
WILL. 197 
 
 lessness. As he has no strength of character, it is impos- 
 sible for him ever to break a bad resolution. If he had any- 
 one to exercise a good influence over him he would soon 
 become a good and upright man, but with pernicious 
 surroundings he could be most harmful to others and 
 himself. He is simply a child who has to be guided, and 
 who, perhaps, will not obey. The other— whom you know 
 less, for his nature is complicated and reserved — is the very 
 opposite of Louis. With his arm to lean upon, a woman 
 would be sure of passing through life without sorrow or 
 danger, for he would devote all his moral and physical 
 energies to making the existence of her he loved happy and 
 secure. When he has told you he loves you, when he has 
 given you his word and his name, he will be faithful to you 
 until death. He is indeed a man, and he will mount as 
 high as he aspires. Until now he has always reached every 
 end he has desired, and he will continue to overcome every 
 obstacle in his path. I believe he is able to do everything, 
 except, alas ! compel you to love him. But, mark me well, 
 now you have the choice between Thauziat and Louis, do 
 not hesitate, do not be so foolish as to hesitate. Stretch 
 out your hand to Thauziat blindly and with closed eyes, 
 simply because I tell you to do so. With him your life 
 will be noble, happy, and envied. He loves you; do not 
 be mad enough to refuse him. To possess the love of such 
 a man is the dream of every woman's heart. You have de- 
 served it, and it is offered you ; accept it, and it will become 
 the joy of your whole life." 
 
 As she spoke she had become eager and animated, a 
 flush had risen to her cheeks, a light come into her 
 eyes. H61^ne had listened to her, carefully weighing her 
 
198 WILL. 
 
 every word, and when she had described Louis as weak 
 and easily led as a child a melancholy smile had passed 
 over her face ; when she had depicted Thauziat in all his 
 superb power she had bent her head. 
 
 "Thank you," she answered simply. "I shall never 
 forget the proof of friendship you have just given me." 
 
 Emilie bowed her head, and without another word 
 returned to the drawing-room. She bid adieu to Madame 
 Hdrault, pressed Louis' hand, and, taking her father's arm, 
 wetit down to their carriage. Monsieur de Thauziat had 
 left about an hour before, and, when Monsieur and 
 Mademoiselle Lereboulley had gone, the remaining guests 
 began to take leave. Louis went to see them off, while 
 his grandmother remained in the drawing-room with 
 Hel6ne. 
 
 " Well, my dear," said the old lady, cheerily, " it has 
 been a most successful day and everything has gone off as 
 well as I could wish, thanks to you." 
 
 " Is everything really as you wish, madame 1 " asked 
 H^lene. 
 
 " Everything, my dear, and I hope the future will be a 
 continuation of the present. I am very old and life does 
 not hold much more in store for me, therefore I ought not 
 to expect much from the future, and all that I do ask is 
 that it shall be as now. All I hope is that I shall not 
 become too tiresome for you to stay with me, and that 
 when I cease to breathe you and Louis will be beside me 
 to close my eyes.'' 
 
 " Why finish such a happy day with such sad thoughts ? " 
 said H61^ne. 
 
 " It depends on you to make them joyful, my dear 
 
WILL. 199 
 
 child," said the old grandmother. " I express my desire, 
 fuMl it. Since you have been with me all my worries have 
 vanished, and I have been entirely happy. My happiness is, 
 I believe, in a great measure owing to you. You do not 
 know how pleasant it is at my age to have nothing but a 
 feeling of tranquil security. Promise me that you will 
 always look upon me as indeed your grandmother and that 
 you will never leave me." 
 
 She had drawn the young girl to her and had clasped 
 her in her arms. H61fene saw the tears running down the 
 old woman's withered cheeks and her heart yearned 
 towards her. She thought of Madame Hdrault's first visi 
 to her in her attic, she remembered, in one instant, all the 
 proofs of affectionate kindness she had received from her, 
 and slipping almost to her knees — 
 
 " I promise I will be a daughter to you," she said, 
 solemnly. 
 
 She felt Madame H6rault's lips on her forehead, she 
 heard her murmur, " Ah, if only you would — ■ " then she 
 quickly rose to prevent the confidence, and when Louis 
 came in he found her standing up, apparently unmoved. 
 
 " Is every one gone 1 " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, every one," he replied. 
 
 " Then we had better go to bed. Madame H6rault must 
 be very tired." 
 
 And hastening the good-nights to avoid any questions 
 from Louis, whose burning curiosity she could guess, she 
 led the old lady from the room. 
 
 It was in vain that the young man followed Madame 
 Hdrault to her chamber hoping to keep her up and thus find an 
 opportunity of opening his heart ; Mademoiselle de Graville 
 
200 WILL. 
 
 quietly and skilfully evaded all but indifferent subjects of 
 conversation. Then, inwardly cursing women's intense 
 blindness (for he thought R&hne could not perceive his 
 anxiety) and his own stupidity for letting things drift, he 
 went to his own room in the depths of despair, and passed 
 a sleepless, feverish night. 
 
 Neither did Mademoiselle de Graville obtain much rest. 
 Instead of peacefully falling asleep, as she generally did, 
 she lay wide awake, again carefully going over the events 
 of the day. Tired and exhausted, she longed to recruit 
 herself with sleep, but the thoughts that kept passing 
 tumultuously through her brain prevented her closing her 
 eyes. She could see CMment bending over her as he told 
 her of his love, his sombre face becoming gradually radiant 
 and superb. He was no longer the indifferent, con- 
 temptuous Thauziat she had hitherto known, but a tender, 
 adoring lover, whose fascination it was almost impossible 
 to resist. With what eloquence had he described the tor- 
 ment he suffered when he had fled from her, hoping that 
 absence would make him forget her ! But, instead of 
 weakening his affection, his self-imposed exile had increased 
 it tenfold. Everywhere he could see Hfelfene, on the bank 
 of a torrent, on the mountain heights, in the forest depths. 
 And he had been forced to own to himself that he had 
 borne her away with him in his heart, and that never again 
 would her image leave him. He had at last understood 
 that it was his fate to love her henceforth and for ever, 
 and, relinquishing the struggle, he had returned to throw 
 himself at her feet. 
 
 As he uttered these words he had bent still lower, and by 
 the flashes of light from the illuminations she could see his 
 
WILL. 201 
 
 noble face glowing with passion. He was right, his pride 
 had at last given way, he loved and he rejoiced in this love 
 which made him a slave. She had made no answer, and 
 then, with words of marvellous power he had told her of 
 his hopes for the future, of his dreams of ambition and of 
 fortune, and suddenly, she had felt as if she were being 
 uplifted to dizzy heights. To his limitless mind, nothing 
 seemed inaccessible ; he was bound to reach every summit 
 and to see the world at his feet. He would yield to Lere- 
 bouUey's persuasions, enter political life and present him- 
 self as a candidate at the next elections, and she felt sure he 
 would soon be among the foremost men of his time, and 
 that he would hold an equally high position in Parliament 
 as he did in society. The sign of a conqueror was on his 
 forehead, and who would he able to resist him t Those 
 whom he did not fascinate he would rule by force. Was 
 she also about to surrender and thus give him the victory 
 he desired the most ardently of all ? 
 
 Her prejudices had vanished. At this moment she 
 admired and liked him, and she understood now that what 
 had seemed strange to her in his mode of action and thought 
 was but the result of the originality of his mind and the 
 superiority of his character. His slightly disdainful tone, 
 the haughtiness of his bearing were easily accounted for 
 by the indifference with which he must regard those who 
 surrounded him, and only served to make his humility 
 before her the more flattering, and to add to the de- 
 lightful sense of self satisfaction she felt at having at last 
 vanquished this proud warrior and at being the queen to 
 whom this determined rebel at last paid homage. 
 
 But suddenly Louis' pale face appeared before her eyes and 
 
202 WILL. 
 
 a pain shot through her heart. In the intoxication of her 
 triumph she had forgotten the weak, inconsistent, young 
 man. As far as she could remember, he had not made the 
 slightest attempt to struggle against C16ment ; it was as 
 though he had acknowledged himself conquered in advance, 
 and had resigned himself to his defeat. And indeed how 
 could he have withstood such an adversary ? Was he not 
 destined to the rdle of attendant satellite, was it not his fate 
 to follow dull and unnoticed in the wake of the more brilliant 
 star? Wherever C16ment showed strength and vigour, 
 there did Louis display his weakness. On the one side there 
 was all which proves the human being's possession of a 
 divine and superior essence, on the other, all which attests 
 the earthly iniirmity of man. The contrast was too marked 
 not to terrify the woman who had to make her choice, for, 
 as Emilie had said, it lay between a man and a child. 
 
 Her friend's words returned to her mind as they had 
 been spoken — " Do not hesitate, but stretch out your hand 
 to Thauziat." And yet she did not feel herself irresistibly 
 forced to give it him. An immense pity for Louis who was 
 so weak and so abandoned to himself, was springing up in 
 her heart. And then, beyond the child, she could see the 
 grandmother, and she asked herself if she was going to for- 
 sake them both when they counted so fondly on her attach- 
 ment and devotion. He also loved her as did Thauziat, in 
 a way that was certainly not so flattering to her pride, but 
 perhaps his affection was the gentler, and the sweeter. He 
 had contented himself with merely .loving and had not 
 uttered any words, but his supplicating looks were full of 
 eloquence. Since she had entered the household, Louis' 
 conduct had changed, as if by magic. He no longer left 
 
WILL. 203 
 
 his grandmother, of whom she was the constant com- 
 panion, and was always beside her — H616ne — gazing at her 
 and apparently living but for her alone. Was it not also 
 a triumph to have led this mamais sujet to a better mode of 
 life "i Unlike Thauziat, he had offered no resistance, but 
 had bent his head beneath the yoke at once. Not for an 
 instant had he hesitated, but from the first day, the first 
 minute, he had loved her and thought of nothing else but 
 loving her. 
 
 She remembered him when he was in mourning, looking 
 delicate and sad ; should she then bring back once more 
 the sorrow to his face, and make him mourn, this time, 
 his love? Besides, was it not for his sake that she 
 had consented to live with the H^raults ? She had not 
 listened when his grandmother spoke to her of the gratitude 
 she owed the Gravilles, she had only thought of this gentle, 
 melancholy young man, for whom she had regretfully ceased 
 to look from her window, and whom she would have been 
 really pleased to see again. It was not the grandmother 
 with whom she had gone to live, it was the grandson, and, 
 that very first evening, how her heart had throbbed when 
 he came in ! What a charm she had found in his voice when 
 he spoke ! She had lived beside him without any transports 
 of joy, only with a calm, even happiness, and perhaps it 
 was this very absence of passionate, palpitating agitation 
 which had prevented her perceiving that she loved him. 
 But she knew now that her heart was his, and as she 
 thought of how if she left him he might be unhappy and 
 perhaps return to his old life, her heart ached and scalding 
 tears flowed down her cheeks. 
 
 And yet Emilie's words still rang in her ears — " If you 
 would be happy, give your hand' to Thauziat. Louis is 
 
204 WILL. 
 
 weak, and if he fell under pernicious influence he would 
 do much harm to others and himself." But, in her 
 heart of hearts, there was a voice which answered — " The 
 influence will not be pernicious, since it will be your own. 
 You will lead him to happiness by the paths of virtue. It 
 will be so if you choose ; and cannot anyone carry out 
 what they are determined to do 1 " And in her ears rang 
 sonorous and imperious, as it had done each time she had 
 had a serious decision to make, the word which seemed the 
 motto of her life — " Will ! Will ! " In vain did she try to 
 reflect or to argue with herself; she could still hear this 
 word which imposed itself on her reason like a divine 
 command. 
 
 Then she felt calmer, and at last fell asleep j ust as the dawn 
 was whitening her windows. 
 
 She did not awake until late, and it was quite ten o'clock 
 before she went to Madame H6rault's room. The latter was 
 already dressed and moving briskly about. 
 
 " You have done quite right to be lazy, my dear," she 
 said. " You were tired, and you do not look very well 
 now. I don't know what is the matter with Louis ; he 
 went off for a walk in the woods hours ago." 
 
 H^lfene made no answer, though she knew very well what 
 was the cause of the young man's restlessness. She went 
 into the hothouses with Madame Herault, and until twelve 
 o'clock listened with deaf ears to the discourses of the old 
 lady on the different plants and the various methods of cul- 
 tivating them. For the first time since they had been at 
 Boissise Louis did not put in an appearance at the mid-day 
 meal, and the two ladies lunched by themselves. His 
 absence made Madame H6rault anxious and she asked if 
 
WILL. 205 
 
 anyone had seen him, but none of the servants had noticed 
 him come in. At this reply she glanced inquiringly at 
 H61fene, who said quietly — 
 
 " No doubt he has walked farther than he intended, and, 
 finding what o'clock itis, has stayed to lunch at the farm." 
 
 " Perhaps so," answered Madame H^rault, without much 
 conviction in her tone. " He has seemed very worried the 
 last two days ; I hope he has not come to any harm." 
 
 " Oh, no, madame ; do not be anxious. I am sure no- 
 thing has happened, and that he will give a very simple 
 explanation of his absence." 
 
 About four o'clock the two ladies were sitting working in 
 the small drawing-room, when a carriage drove up to the 
 door, with Emilie driving and Thauziat seated beside her. 
 Mademoiselle Lereboulley threw the reins to the groom 
 and, taking the hand Clement oflFered her, sprang to the 
 ground, while H^lfene advanced to meet them. The two 
 girls kissed each other, but Thauziat only bowed to 
 Mademoiselle de Graville with grave adoration, and then 
 slowly went up the steps towards her. 
 
 " You told him ' to-morrow,' " whispered Emilie to her 
 friend, with a glance at Clement, "and he would not even 
 wait until this evening ; so here he is, trembling with sus- 
 pense. It is certainly the first time he has ever experienced 
 such sensations ; are you not proud of having inspired such 
 love 1 " 
 
 H^lene sadly shook her head and made no reply. They 
 all three went into the drawing-room, but in a few minutes 
 Emilie skilfully drew Madame H6rault out of the room, 
 and Mademoiselle de G-raville and Thauziat were left alone. 
 For a moment they felt embarrassed, then C16ment roused 
 himself and said, with a smile — 
 
206 WILL. 
 
 " I am not a very patient creditor, am I ? But you must 
 blame yourself for my eagerness. By placing myself under 
 stricter restraint I could have stayed away longer and have 
 given you more time to reflect, but I wish to act with per- 
 fect frankness, and, at the risk of displaying the deficiencies 
 in my character, to appear to you exactly as I am." 
 
 Then as Mademoiselle de Graville was about to reply, he 
 stopped her by a gesture of entreaty. 
 
 " Oh, I implore you not to answer yet. Before I came 
 I was all anxiety to hear your decision, and now I am 
 beside you I fear to learn my fate. It seems to me that I 
 have not pleaded my cause with suflScient eloquence, and I 
 am tempted to repeat yet again how I adore you that you 
 may the better understand the pain you will inflict upon 
 me if you tell me you cannot return my love." 
 
 " I know all that is needful for me to know," replied 
 H61fene, " and it would be useless to add another word. I 
 am neither careless nor frivolous, and I can appreciate at 
 their full worth the sentiments of a man such as you. If I 
 had had any doubts as to your qualities, the respect and 
 esteem of all those whom I see with you would have dissi- 
 pated them ; but I wanted no other eyes but my own to 
 discover how high I ought to place you in my estimation. 
 I am not speaking mere words of flattery ; you have been 
 frank with me, I will be the same with you. Learn, then, 
 that it has made me very proud to find that you have chosen 
 me from among so many others, and if pride could influence 
 my decision, perhaps I should now be led to give you my 
 hand — " 
 
 " H61fene ! " cried CMment, turning pale as death. 
 " H61fene, for what answer are you preparing me." 
 
WILL. 207 
 
 " For one which I have enough regard for you and suf- 
 ficient confidence in .your generosity to wish to convey to 
 you myself. Just now you were entreating me, now it is 
 my turn to entreat you. Promise me that whatever favour 
 I demand you will grant it me." 
 
 " I will grant you everything," he exclaimed passionately, 
 " except to give up loving you." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Graville raised her beautiful, suppliant 
 eyes to his face, and holding out to him her hands which 
 he did not dare take within his own — • 
 
 "But you will love me as a true and devoted friend. 
 The love you now have for me, and which, perhaps, will 
 quickly die out like too bright a flame, must become a 
 solid and lasting aflfection. Oh, I wish I could make you 
 understand how happy I should be if you would yield to 
 my prayer, and how grateful I should be to you for 
 exhibiting so much grandeur of soul. You are the only 
 man whom I dare ask to make such an effort over him- 
 self, because, perhaps, you are the only one whom I think 
 capable of doing such a thing. I entreat you to let us 
 put an end to this situation, so painful for us both, and 
 leave it behind us, you, strengthened by generous resolu- 
 tions, I, with my heart fuU of an affection I will prove to 
 you during my whole life." 
 
 But he stood sUent, his head bowed upon his chest. 
 
 "You do not reply f" asked H61fene with terrible anxiety. 
 " Of what are you thinking ? " she added gently. 
 
 " Of the dreams I had had," answered C16ment, " and 
 which, in one second, have vanished for ever. And yet 
 is it possible that I am quite indifferent to you, and that 
 I cannot make you love me 1 May I not cherish the slightest 
 
208 WILL. 
 
 hope 1 Are you quite sure of your own raind ? Or do you 
 love another ? " 
 
 It was Hel^ne now who made no answer. He was 
 intently watching her, and as he stood, with his tall 
 figure drawn up to its fullest height and his face clouded 
 over, he looked the same as when, in her eyes, he per- 
 sonified Louis' bad genius. All her former impressions 
 returned to her mind, and once again she divined the 
 immense amount of good or evil of which he was capable. 
 At this moment the evil seemed to prevail, and the kind- 
 ness and gentleness had disappeared from his face as the 
 light fleecy clouds vanish from the mountain's brow before 
 the storm wind. 
 
 " I have promised Madame H6rault not to leave her,'' 
 said Hfelfene at last, " and you know that I shall thus be 
 only paying a debt of gratitude. She could not have been 
 kinder to me than she has been, and I shall always find a 
 pleasure in living with her until her last moments." 
 
 " Why not be frank and brave enough to tell the truth," 
 broke in Thauziat. " You are not staying here for the 
 sake of Madame H^rault, but for Louis ! You love him, it 
 is he you prefer to me. Dare you deny to me that it is 
 so?" 
 
 At this challenge Mademoiselle de GraviUe rebelled, and 
 looking Thauziat full in the face — 
 
 " You want the truth 1 Then you shall be satisfied. 
 Yes, 1 do love him ! " 
 
 "What has he done to deserve your love?" asked 
 C16ment bitterly. 
 
 "He is weak and needs protection." 
 
 " Say, rather, that he is cowardly and vicious." 
 
WILL. 209 
 
 " Then I -will be his courage and his virtue." 
 
 " If he finds you are his superior, he will hate you." 
 
 " Knowing that I have done all for the best, I will suffer 
 without a murmur." 
 
 " Do you think I will allow you to sacrifice yourself in 
 this way 1 " 
 
 " By what right would you interfere 1 " exclaimed H61fene 
 angrily. " I think you are taking unwarrantable liberties ! 
 Until now I have allowed you to speak to me freely, but, if 
 you take advantage of my good nature to threaten me, I 
 will never consent to listen to you again.'' 
 
 " Forgive me," cried C16ment, " my suffering is so great 
 that I forget myself and offend you. And yet God knows 
 how I love you ! I want to put you on your guard against 
 the dangers of which you are so rashly running the risk, and 
 you refuse to understand my meaning. If I depict Louis 
 to you as I know him, you will only accuse me of perfidy and 
 treachery, and yet I cannot let you ruin your whole existence. 
 The world, which you are bound to enter and of which you 
 are ignorant, is strewn with snares and pitfalls, and is full of 
 nothing but lies and deceit. You will be cruelly wounded 
 if you have no one to protect you, and Louis — Louis ! You 
 intend to confide yourself to the care of him who stands in 
 so much need of protection himself 1 " 
 
 H.&hne put her hand on Thauziat's arm, and said, with a 
 smile — 
 
 "Well, then, if he has so much need of protection, he 
 will have mine and, if needs were, yours." 
 
 Clement started back. 
 
 " Never ! " he cried, furiously. " I could not see you his 
 without hating him ! " 
 
210 WILL. 
 
 " That is just what I will not have," said Mademoiselle 
 de Graville firmly. "You must give me your word of 
 honour that you will forget all you have said to me the day 
 I marry Louis, and that we — Louis and I — shall always 
 have a friend in you." 
 
 He shook his head, but she bent towards him with her 
 charming grace, and, forcing him to look at her, said — 
 
 " Promise, and I shall like you so much." 
 
 Again he shook his head ; then, with an effort — 
 
 " I would do anything in the world to please you, but I 
 am only a man, and you must not ask divine virtues of me. 
 No, it would be impossible for me to forgive him the pain 
 I shall have to endure through him, though I know he wiU 
 be the innocent cause of it. I can see how unjust I am, but 
 you cannot prevent his happiness being a source of suffering 
 to me, or me being jealous of him. For yourself, you may 
 be sure that you will always have my fidelity and devotion. 
 I shall love you as long as I live, with the last hope that, 
 having seen the worthlessness of the man on whom you 
 have lavished your affection, you may return to me. I 
 shall always be ready to accept on my knees the love I am 
 imploring and you are refusing. A man of my nature does 
 not know the meaning of change. I love you to-day, I 
 shall love you to-morrow, I shall never cease to love you 
 le* what wiU happen." 
 
 "And I," said Hel^ne gravely, " I am a woman who does 
 not give her heart twice over. Such as you find me to-day, 
 such you will find me ten years hence." 
 
 He made a step towards her as though to beseech her. 
 Then, understanding that entreaty was useless, he uttered 
 a cry of despair, and, bowing before her, left her. She, 
 
WILL. 211 
 
 with clouded face and dreamy eyes, went out on the terrace, 
 avoided Madame H^rault and Emilie who were hastening 
 to rejoin Thauziat near the carriage, and, longing for silence 
 and solitude, turned towards the sombre alleys of the park. 
 
 When she had passed the lakes she seated herself on a 
 grassy bank, and began to think. So Clement, like 
 Emilie, warned her against her own heart, and told her of 
 the dangers of a union with Louis. Although she knew he 
 was sincere in his advice, Thauziat's animosity was explic- 
 able — he loved her. But Emilie, H6rault's friend and daily 
 companion, also said, "Do not marry Louis, you will be 
 unhappy ! " It seemed to H61fene that she was on the edge 
 of a precipice of immeasurable depth. At the very bottom 
 gleamed a bright spark, which was surely hope. But was 
 there any chance of escape from this gulf once she let her- 
 self slide 1 And if not, then why should she take one more 
 step forward 1 She was free, she need not expose herself 
 to this danger. One word and all would be finished; should 
 she hesitate to pronounce this word 1 Was she afraid of 
 poverty, now she had lived in luxury 1 No, she knew she 
 could return to her work and her life of privation without 
 a murmur. But the old grandmother, to whom she had 
 promised to be a devoted daughter, would then be for- 
 saken, and, after having accustomed her to every affec- 
 tionate care, could she leave her alone, deprived of every 
 little tenderness ? And Louis, who had been so sad and 
 discouraged for the last two days, would be again abandoned 
 to himself if she went away. 
 
 At this thought she could have wept. She was sure that 
 if she disregarded Emilie's and Clement's advice, she must 
 be prepared for the most poignant sorrows ; but again the 
 
212 WILL. 
 
 voice within her repeated, " Be bold and courageous. Face 
 the danger, and you will vanquish it by your will." And 
 down in the black gulf which seemed ready to swallow her 
 up she saw the little bright spark growing and increasing 
 and mounting towards her, and gradually the dark chasm 
 became blue, and it seemed to H61ene that before her eyes 
 stretched the immense canopy of Heaven. 
 
 From that moment her resolution was taken. She had 
 a conviction that she would surmount every obstacle, and 
 that, in defending her own happiness, she would be defend- 
 ing that of the beings she loved, and her heart felt lighter. 
 She felt rested and calm, and she sat still in silent enjoy- 
 ment of the tranquillity within and around her. 
 
 A slight noise among the bushes attracted her attention, 
 and looking up she saw Louis in the middle of the path. 
 He was very pale, but drops of perspiration were standing on 
 his forehead, and fragments of grass and moss were clinging 
 to his clothes as though he had been lying on the ground. 
 He came up to H^lfene, and said in a trembling voice — 
 
 "I did not think of meeting you here, but I will go 
 away again. My presence would be de trop, no doubt." 
 
 " Why should you think so 1 " asked H61fene. 
 
 " Ever since yesterday you have carefully avoided me/' 
 he answered bitterly. " Therefore I must conclude that 
 I am displeasing to you, or that another pleases you better." 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " I have just seen the carriage in which Emilie and 
 Monsieur de Thauziat came drive off." 
 
 " Oh, it is Monsieur de Thauziat you have in your mind, 
 is it?" said H61fene, with a smile. " Well, he is gone, and I 
 don't expect he will come back." 
 
WILL. 213 
 
 Louis drew closer to her with a gesture of delight, 
 and unable to contain himself, 
 
 " Then you do not love him 1 " 
 
 "Do you think everyone who meets him is absolutely 
 compelled to fall in love with him 1 " 
 
 He turned yet paler than before, and, dropping on his 
 knees beside her, held out his cold, trembling hands to her. 
 
 " How you have made me suffer ! " he murmured. " But 
 what did he really ask you yesterday, for of course I knew 
 it was not about your common acquaintances you had been 
 talking ? " 
 
 " Yesterday, he- asked me if I would be his wife,'' replied 
 H61fene softly ; " and to-day — " 
 
 She stopped, enjoying to the full the emotion with which 
 Louis, whose very breath seemed suspended, was overcome. 
 
 " To-day? " he repeated. 
 
 H61fene's face shone with inexpressible love, and in tones 
 which sounded like heavenly music in the ears of the man 
 who loved her, she replied : 
 
 " To-day, I have told him that I shall never leave your 
 grandmother's house." 
 
 " H616ne ! " cried Louis, and his eyes filled with tears. 
 
 She was beside him, delighted at his joy, smiling to 
 see him weep. Passionately he took her in his arms, and 
 clasping her to him as if he still feared his claim might be 
 disputed — 
 
 "Ah, how I love you," he whispered, "and how happy 
 you have made me ! " 
 
 She gently disengaged herself from his embrace, and in 
 almost maternal fashion brushed away the tears from his 
 eyes. Then, rising, she took his arm, and, leaning on each 
 other, they slowly returned to the chateau. 
 
CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 The marriage between Louis H6rault-Gandon and Made- 
 moiselle de Graville was performed under the happiest 
 auspices. The bridegroom's grandmother was wild with 
 delight, and the bride had no relations to be vexed because 
 a poor but well-born girl was marrying a man immensely 
 wealthy but connected with trade. Helena's settlements 
 were carried out in princely fashion, but the H6raults' 
 family lawyer, who had been obliged to thoroughly look into 
 their affairs before drawing up the marriage contract, did not 
 attempt to conceal from Louis that his bachelor extravagance 
 had greatly decreased his fortune. He still had the factory 
 and the Boissise estate, without counting the personal pos- 
 sessions of old Madame H^rault ; but what would consti- 
 tute a magnificent income for people of modest habits is 
 only what is strictly necessary for those accustomed to live 
 in grand style. Luxury entails tremendous expenses, and 
 many fashionable families have to exercise greater economy 
 and care in the distribution of their incomes than has the 
 head of the ordinary middle-class household. 
 
 H^lene at once realised the demands of the social position 
 which she now occupied, and with marvellous clearness of 
 perception and good judgment she arranged the household 
 expenses so as not to reduce the way in which the family 
 had always lived, but also so as not to spend more than the 
 income really at their command. She amazed her husband 
 
WILL. 215 
 
 by her prudence and decision, and transported with delight 
 old Madame H6rault, who had never been able to keep 
 accounts. 
 
 Louis seemed on the way to becoming another man. To 
 please his wife he had again applied himself to business 
 and now went to Saint-Denis more regularly than ever, 
 and none of the unfavourable prognostics which had been 
 uttered were realised by the young couple. It is true that 
 the honeymoon was hardly over and that six months' hard 
 work was not much to ask from so great a love as Louis'. 
 That he worshipped his wife and saw everything through 
 her eyes there could be no doubt, and Emilie was stupefied. 
 She would never have believed H6rault capable of so lasting 
 an affection. Caprices, loves which died out as suddenly 
 as they had sprung into existence, so well and good ; that 
 was as much as could be expected from a man physically so 
 nervous, morally so frivolous. A strong, lasting aifection was 
 indeed something new, and Helfene had worked a miracle. 
 
 The winter which followed her marriage was one long 
 delight for the young wife. Her husband, tired of society, 
 had dropped the acquaintances his father had made ; but 
 now, proud of H61fene, and anxious to see her admired, he 
 again sought them out, and added to their number other 
 and new friends, with the help of LerebouUey who knew 
 everyone in Paris. All its bygone splendours were restored 
 to the H6rault mansion, which, gleaming with light, opened 
 wide its doors to the guests who flocked thither in crowds. 
 With her simple, easy grace, H61tee showed herself a 
 perfect hostess, and the most malicious could find nothing 
 to criticise in the behaviour of this charming favourite of 
 fortune, though, for all that, she was not permitted to go 
 
216 WILL. 
 
 Scot-free ; for perfection, in the eyes of many people, is the 
 worst of all faults. But there was no truth in the sayings 
 of her detractors, and it only needed their attacks to make 
 young Madame H^rault's admirers her fanatic champions. 
 She had many more enthusiastic friends than half-hearted 
 foes, and, as the world always takes the opinion of the 
 majority, H^lfene was placed amongst the people who are 
 a success. 
 
 She was glad to find herself received with favour, 
 especially because of Louis, whose vanity exulted. In his 
 character vanity held a prominent position, and he was one 
 of those men who will ruin themselves to have it said that 
 they possess the handsomest house, the fastest horses, the 
 best shooting and the prettiest wife. Fortunately for him, 
 he had the cleverest as well as the prettiest wife, and she 
 prevented him committing a great many follies. He had 
 always followed someone else. Formerly it was Thauziat 
 who guided him and led him into all sorts of extravagance, 
 with his lordly ways of despising money ; but Thauziat was 
 no longer his hourly companion, for since the day he had 
 left Boissise, wounded to the heart, he had kept away, to 
 H61ene's delight. 
 
 His absence was indeed a relief to her, for since she had 
 penetrated Louis' most secret thoughts young Madame 
 H^rault knew what a sovereign influence C16ment had 
 exercised over him. She also understood that it needed 
 but a word for him to resume his sway again, since, after 
 hating Thauziat with all his jealous strength, Louis, now 
 his love was successful, felt quite as friendly towards him as 
 of old. Besides, even if he had had good cause of hatred, 
 was H6rault capable of hating anyone long t With his 
 
WILL. 217 
 
 fickle nature, every sensation was passing, and, unfortun- 
 ately, the noblest and most delicate were the least enduring^ 
 Therefore, it was with great uneasiness that the young wife 
 had consented to pay a ceremonious visit to the Lere- 
 boulleys soon after her marriage, for Thauziat was an inti- 
 mate friend of theirs, and she feared meeting him. She 
 confessed her dread to Emilie, who began to reproach her 
 for calling so seldom, but at the first words she uttered 
 Mademoiselle Lereboulley interrupted her. 
 
 " You have nothing to fear," she said. " You evidently 
 do not know Clement. He will keep away from you, and 
 will not utter a word which could by any chance displease 
 or make you uneasy. He is very unhappy, though no one 
 would think it such is the extraordinary command he has 
 over himself." 
 
 And, in truth, whenever H61ene met Thauziat at a ball 
 or evening party, he avoided her, and within a quarter of 
 an hour, after staying just long enough to avoid drawing 
 attention to the coincidence of his departure with Madame 
 H^rault's arrival, he had left the house. This behaviour 
 was so uniform that Louis was put out by it. He thought 
 his old friend shunned him too persistently. Because they 
 had been rivals, was that a reason why their acquaintance 
 should cease 1 He bore no grudge against Clement, and 
 why should Clement bear one against him 1 To give way 
 to despair for six months was quite long enough, a love 
 grief ought never to last longer, and was it not easy enough 
 for this lady-killer, so little accustomed to defeat, to find 
 consolation 1 Were not all the women eager to make him 
 forget the cruelty which he so bitterly resented ? 
 
 He reproached H616ne for not favouring the reconcilia- 
 
218 WILL. 
 
 tion and for being unfriendly towards Thauziat, but on 
 that point he found her deaf to all his arguments. She 
 declared that it Avas useless to seek each other out again 
 after so long a separation, and, besides, reconciliations never 
 lasted long after so decided a rupture; there are moral 
 wounds which are never thoroughly healed. In any case, 
 it was not Louis' place to make the first advances. If 
 Monsieur de Thauziat came back to them in a frank and 
 friendly way, she certainly would not repel him. ; but his 
 systematic avoidance of them was a proof that he had not 
 forgotten, and therefore it was better to leave him to his 
 ill-temper. 
 
 " Are you afraid he might make love to you 1 " asked 
 Louis, with the slightly bantering security of a man who 
 knows himself beloved. 
 
 " Perhaps I am," answered Hel^ne, gravely, for she did 
 not wish to confess that it was a great deal more for Louis' 
 sake than her own that she feared a renewal of the intimacy 
 with Thauziat. However chance freed her from this anxiety. 
 
 About the middle of winter Lereboulley set off for 
 Smyrna, whither he was bound to assure himself of the 
 advantages of a company that was being formed to estab- 
 lish a service of steamers between Marseilles and the 
 Syrian coast, and on his way the senator intended to stop 
 at Corinth to see the site chosen to comnaence cutting 
 through the isthmus. He took Thauziat with him, and 
 they and Sir James went on a yacht the latter had just 
 bought to please his wife. The Sir^ne was one of the 
 prettiest pleasure yachts in Europe. Of about four hundred 
 tons burden she could do her fifteen knots, and her former 
 owner. Lord Mellivan Grey, had only sold her to Sir James 
 
WILL. 219 
 
 because, stricken down by the death of his daughter, he 
 no longer took any pleasure in travelling. 
 
 When Sir James told him of his acquisition, Lereboulley 
 had gone almost mad with rage. This was a very different 
 matter from buying knick-knacks and pictures, and a yacht 
 wasn't a thing that could be stood on a whatnot in a 
 drawing-room. Then, besides the purchase money, there 
 would be endless expenses in connection with it ; it would 
 need a captain to command it, a crew to manage it, coal 
 to get up steam; and for a whole fortnight Lereboulley never 
 opened his mouth save to say something bad about the boat. 
 
 " If it was even worth anything ! " he said to Sir James. 
 " But it's sure to turn out an old tub, which will go to 
 the bottom at the first breath of wind. And you offer to 
 take me on it with you ! Why you must be mad, simply 
 mad ! And I hope your wife will not risk her life on board 
 it. Unless she is out of her senses she will remain on land, 
 and then if you go to the bottom of the sea, Sir James, 
 we shall lament you, but at any rate you will not have 
 dragged that poor Diana down with you." 
 
 He furiously persisted in prophesying that a disaster 
 would surely come to pass. One could feel that he would 
 have liked to be on the shore at the moment the Sirhne 
 was being swallowed up by the waves, to delight in the 
 spectacle and to assure himself that his extravagant friend 
 had not escaped. But Sir James was not in the least put 
 out, and replied with his usual phlegm — 
 
 " It was Diana who bought the yacht, ^.nd she is 
 delighted at the idea of going to the Mediterranean on 
 board it. Besides, it's a very pretty boat, and as safe as 
 possible." 
 
220 WILL. 
 
 "An old tub, I tell you, an old tub," growled Lere- 
 boulley ; " and you'll all be drowned. I won't go on it at 
 any rate." 
 
 " It will turn out a very good speculation," resumed Sir 
 James. " I shall sell it for more than I gave." 
 
 Lereboulley sprang to his feet, unable to contain himself 
 at such an idea. 
 
 " A good speculation ! A boat cheap at four hundred 
 thousand francs ! Do you hear, Sir James, four hundred 
 thousand francs ! You don't seem to know what four 
 hundred thousand francs means ; but it will have to be 
 paid, and you'd better think it over ! " 
 
 " I believe I told you when the first payment is due." 
 
 " Upon my word I admire your coolness, I do, indeed," 
 stammered Lereboulley, choking with rage. 
 
 At that Sir James, his patience exhausted, advanced 
 towards the senator with so ferocious an air that the latter, 
 calming down as if by magic, uttered nothing more but 
 confused interjections, and did not dare to blame any 
 further the man of whom he stood in such wholesome awe. 
 In the end, Di^ip, decl|,red, with her most charming smile, 
 that she was pleased, •■atid that was an argument which 
 generally put an' end t6 even the most violent discussions 
 between Sir Jlfmi^aijct Lereboulley. 
 
 At length the yacht Arrived at Havre. It was perfectly 
 appointed, andffja,ciy Olifaunt having proposed a trip along 
 the shores of the jVIediterranean, the senator took advan- 
 tage of the proposal to go to Smyrna. It would be an 
 agreeable way of passing a few weeks with Diana and of 
 getting some return for his money, while his journey would 
 be turned into a pleasure party. But the arrangement was 
 
WILL. 221 
 
 discussed a little more than Lereboulley, who had the 
 greatest regard for appearances on account of Lady 
 Olifaunt's social position, liked; and Emilie, whose tongue 
 knew no limits when Diana was in question, began to utter 
 such atrocities, that soon all sorts of things were being said 
 and thought about the expedition. 
 
 One evening, when someone was asking to what port 
 Lady Olifaunt's yacht was to be steered, Emilie coolly 
 replied — 
 
 " But is not its destination too clearly indicated for any 
 information to be needed 1 " 
 
 " Why, what is its destination ? " 
 
 " Cythera, naturally ! " 
 
 These evidences of malice, which Lereboulley did not 
 dare curb, as much from affection as from fear, for he both 
 loved and dreaded his daughter, simply tortured him. He 
 would have given Emilie whatever she chose to ask, if she 
 would only have promised not to tear Diana with her sharp 
 little claws and pointed teeth, but though she would not 
 have owned the pleasure it gave her to tear to shreds the 
 character of the beautiful woman'wbo co^ her father so 
 dear, it was too intense for the girl ttk|4j^ist. 
 
 The result of this petty domestic^BRare was to hasten 
 the departure of the pleasure-seekin^^Srty,- and one morn- 
 ing Hdlfene heard that Lereboulley wfs -^Sn the ocean and 
 Thauziat with him. ' ;|?,»1' 
 
 The news completely reassured her ind she became 
 radiant with beauty and happiness. Generally, when one 
 woman is the centre of attraction in a room, all the other 
 women at once draw themselves up and cast the most evil 
 of glances at their successful rival, but to H61fene was given 
 
222 WILL. 
 
 the rare privilege of being admired by men and yet not 
 hated by women. They felt she would not take advantage 
 of her power, and thence their indulgence. She never 
 strove after effect but was always simply herself, and she 
 could not have been more charming. She had but one 
 ambition — that of binding her husband yet closer to her, 
 and the strange result of her jealous care was to redouble 
 her affection for Louis without increasing his for her. She 
 was caught in her own snare, and from constantly concen- 
 trating her thoughts upon her handsome husband she came 
 to adore him. He was certainly very much in love with 
 her, but it must be owned that his caresses were more 
 freely lavished the days his pride was flattered by the 
 praise and admiration H61fene received. 
 
 An event which it was easy to foretell put a stop in 
 some measure to the young wife's social successes ; she 
 found herself likely to become a mother, and had to im- 
 pose certain restraints upon herself. Madame H6rault 
 was intensely delighted, and Louis very properly joined in 
 the general rejoicing. He was not passionately fond of 
 children, but the thought of having a child of his own, 
 especially if it should be a boy, touched a chord in his 
 heart which had never before vibrated. He gave his wife 
 ample proof of the real affection he had for her, and when 
 she no longer cared to go out he passed all his evenings at 
 home with her. , li. 
 
 Once more the drawing-room of the H6rault mansion was 
 the scene of sweet intercourse, such as that which had pre- 
 ceded the wedding, when Louis, attracted to his home by 
 H6lfene's presence, used to find time fly so quickly when 
 he was seated beside her, that when at midnight his grand- 
 
WILL. 223 
 
 mother rose to go to her room, he usually exclaimed, 
 " Already 1 " He was not now so ardent as he had been 
 then, but that only made his conduct the more praise- 
 worthy, for after a day passed at Saint-Denis with his 
 managers and foremen Jie might have been excused for 
 desiring a more exciting pleasure than that of an evening 
 spent with his wife and grandmother. However, he 
 sacrificed himself very good-temperedly, and if Helfene 
 said to him — 
 
 " It is dull for you here. Go to the theatre, there is a 
 new piece on now." 
 
 " No," he would answer ; " it will run a long while and 
 we will go and see it together." 
 
 Then his wife would take him by the shoulders, gently 
 smooth his fair hair with her soft, white hand, gaze into 
 his blue eyes, and seeing him smiling and content kiss 
 him with all the passion of happy love. 
 
 She used all her wits to prevent him feeling wearied. 
 She was widely read, gifted with a fertile imagination 
 and a brilliant conversationalist, and she succeeded in 
 making Louis pass the time pleasantly enough. He per- 
 ceived the efforts she made to amuse him, and admired and 
 wondered at the culture of her mind. As she talked she 
 constantly mentioned things of which he was ignorant, and 
 men of whose existence he had never heard, and gradually 
 he formed a very high opinion of his wife's mental abilities, 
 and began to consult her, even on matters of business. 
 
 "If your grandfather had known me, he would have 
 wanted me in his office," she would say sometimes 
 laughingly. "And I should indeed have made an 
 excellent accountant." 
 
224 WILL. 
 
 She took advantage of her husband's confidence to 
 gradually learn the extent and workings of his trade. 
 She discovered that besides the question of manufacture 
 there was also one of speculation to influence the gains of 
 the Saint-Denis works. The copper market was subject to 
 considerable fluctuations, and as the price went up or down 
 so was it better or worse for H6rault's trade, the aim 
 naturally being to lay in a store of metal when it was 
 cheap, and to prevent any depreciation in the value of the 
 apparatus constructed. For the last few years the supply 
 of copper had exceeded the demand, especially since the 
 different nations had adopted steel for the construction of 
 cannon in place of bronze, but in addition to this, many 
 new mines had been discovered and Spain in particular had 
 suffered a great loss to her revenues owing to the deprecia- 
 tion of the metal. Fortunately for Louis, LerebouUey had 
 obtained for him a commission from the government to 
 make the copper casings for cartridges, and at last the 
 much talked-of cable from Brest to Panama was about to 
 be put in hand. 
 
 Still, H61fene did not feel perfectly easy, for she had 
 noticed Louis' tendency to speculate. He was always 
 thinking out complicated combinations for making money 
 by selling or buying copper in its rough state, instead of 
 setting his every energy to work to place his factory above 
 all others by the excellence of the work turned out from it. 
 It was in this latter direction that his wife constantly urged 
 him, stimulating him to throw aside his natural indolence, 
 and trying to make him conquer his innate dislike for work. 
 She knew he conscientiously did all he could to meet her 
 wishes and she pitied him for having to struggle so hard to 
 
WILL. 225 
 
 overcome his habits, but she also knew that her happiness 
 depended upon Louis being constantly occupied. Emilie 
 told her so at every opportunity, though she did not need 
 her friend's warnings to convince her of the fact. 
 
 Old Madame H^rault, who had never seen her grandson 
 do anything save minister to his own pleasures, thought 
 that H^16ne had worked wonders with him and was almost 
 ready to cry aloud that she had indeed performed a miracle, 
 but soon she had another object on which to lavish her 
 admiration — a great-grandson was born to her one evening 
 about eleven o'clock, and, for the second time in his life, 
 Louis wept for joy. 
 
 Seated at his wife's bedside, after she was rested and a 
 little restored, and holding her hand in his, while, to the 
 grandmother's intense delight, the new little H^rault drank 
 orange-flower water out of a glass like a man, he passed one 
 of the happiest hours of his life. H61fene lay back, pale 
 and smiling, among the pillows and lace, saying nothing but 
 gazing at her husband with the proud joy of a young 
 mother. He had wished for a son, she had given him one, 
 and, in return, she only asked him to be steady in order to 
 assure their future happiness. 
 
 " Are you pleased 1 " she whispered. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, while his heart thrilled with love. 
 
 " Henceforth, you must be doubly good — for my sake 
 and for his." 
 
 He made no answer in words, but, leaning down, he 
 imprinted a kiss upon her forehead which was worth more 
 than all the vows he could have uttered. 
 
 The following day, a consultation was held between the 
 relations of the interesting patient and the doctor who was 
 
226 WILL. 
 
 attending her— the celebrated Eameau de Ferriferes— upon 
 the advisability of Madame H6rault suckling her child. 
 She herself was most anxious to do so and the grand- 
 mother, who had brought up her own son, thoroughly 
 approved her desire, but Louis raised some objections, and, 
 for once, he alone displayed common sense. Eameau, when 
 they asked him to decide the question, commenced by say- 
 ing that Madame H^rault was perfectly " able " to nourish 
 her child, and as to whether she " ought " to do so, he thought 
 it needless to ask his opinion when it was so well known 
 already. Deeply imbued as he was with socialistic prin- 
 ciples, the physician quoted Jean-Jacques Kousseau and 
 afl&rmed that if they would have the child well and strong 
 it was absolutely necessary for it to draw its nourishment 
 from the mother. Then, half seriously, half jokingly, he 
 concluded — 
 
 " All women" should be equal in the presence of mater- 
 nity, as all men are before the law. A young woman has 
 no more right to refuse to suckle her child than has a 
 young man to refuse to serve his time. To bear children 
 is the way in which a woman acquits herself of her debt to 
 her country ; to nourish them, the way in which she pays 
 her debt to her family. Of course, one cannot force a 
 woman who is physically unfit to do so to suckle her child, 
 just as one does not require cripples or invalids to follow 
 the flag. But, in that case, do not let us have a hired 
 woman take the place of the mother; let us rather 
 obtain the purest milk from an ass or a goat at the risk of 
 making the child obstinate or capricious." 
 
 Then turning to H6rault — 
 
 " And should you like your son to be so 1 " 
 
WILL. 227 
 
 Naturally Louis was obliged to say he would be deeply 
 grieved to see his child either one or the other. 
 
 Disliking all discussion as he did, he would not draw 
 Eameau aside to tell him that there were moral reasons 
 against the plan which more than counterbalanced the 
 physical ones in favour of it — for instance, that, until the 
 child was weaned, there must necessarily be a difference in 
 the relations between his wife and himself, and that he 
 very much wished not to interrupt the intimacy which had 
 hitherto assured their happiness. Entreated by H616ne, 
 urged by the doctor, teased by his grandmother, who had 
 not the remotest idea of the dangers she Was rendering pos- 
 sible, Louis yielded. It was the first, perhaps the only 
 error H61fene made in the battle she waged against life. 
 
 But with all her clearness of judgment she still wanted 
 experience. She thought to bind her husband stiU closer 
 to his home by making his child's arms his chains, never 
 dreaming that it was herself alone she was fettering, and 
 that once his home was changed into a nursery it would 
 not long possess any attraction for this man of the world, 
 hardly yet steadied down and always on the verge of break- 
 ing bounds. She acted for the best, as in this world people 
 so often do, only to find their efforts lead to bad results, but 
 unfortunately the line of conduct she adopted was not one 
 which could be altered in a day, and during the time 
 she would need to retrace her steps, how many bad habits 
 could be resumed ! 
 
 The young wife was not long in perceiving the immediate 
 effects of her decision. When she again became able to 
 resume her usual life, she tried in vain to draw her husband 
 to her room. He had reinstalled himself in his bachelor 
 
228 WILL. 
 
 quarters, and, finding himself very comfortable there, told 
 H^16ne, in answer to her request, that considerations for 
 the health of both mother and child forbade him acceding 
 to her desire, and that to be free to have the baby brought 
 her at all hours of the night she must be alone. He was 
 tender but firm, and when he could find no good argument 
 to use, he smiled affectionately. H61fene was forced to give 
 in and found herself, as she had wished, inclosed in her 
 maternity as in a fortress ; but she now saw that if the 
 place was to be inexpugnable, it was of the first importance 
 that her husband also should be within. 
 
 Still she had no cause for complaint. Louis' conduct 
 was exemplary. His ardour for business matters increased. 
 He desired to regain possession of most of the shares of his 
 factory at Saint-Denis, and Lereboulley gave up his with a 
 very good grace. Altogether, H6rault seemed to be on the 
 way to perfecting what his grandfather had commenced, 
 and to regaining by his hard Work what he had dissipated 
 by his idleness. 
 
 Spring had come and gone while such important events 
 had been taking place, and now August was drawing to an 
 end, H616ne, who had borne the heat of the summer very 
 well, thanks to the fresh and verdant garden in the Fau- 
 bourg Poissonifere, expressed a wish to pass a few weeks at 
 Boissise. There would be no need for Louis to bear the 
 fatigue of a frequent journey between Evreux and Paris, for 
 it was now the quietest time of the year for him and at the 
 factory most of the engines stood idle, only a dull, con- 
 tinuous snort coming from the few still in motion as from 
 an enormous animal stretched sleeping in the sun. 
 
 The young couple were delighted at finding themselves 
 
WILL. 229 
 
 once more at the place which possessed so many pleasant 
 associations for them. Again they visited the park with its 
 sombre alleys, the limpid lakes on which swam, slow and 
 majestic, the snowy swans, the dazzling flower-gardens 
 aglow with bright-hued flowers, the stone seat where they 
 had exchanged the words which had bound them to each 
 other for ever, and at each step they recalled the happy 
 moments of the year before. Alone they walked amidst 
 the silent woods where they used to walk with Emilie, and, 
 forgetting the world and all that was not of themselves, 
 lived a life of exquisite selfishness. 
 
 If, at this moment of her life, H61fene had been able to 
 complete Louis' pure and moral enjoyment by pleasures 
 less ethereal, if she had not been condemned to a platonic 
 affection only she would doubtless have cast a net about 
 him very difficult to escape. But all her physical grace, all 
 her intellectual gifts could not recompense her young and 
 ardent husband for the pleasures denied him ; she was 
 simply feeding a fire she was unable to extinguish, and the 
 more charming she made herself the more she increased the 
 danger. 
 
 On his return from his excursion to the East, Lereboulley 
 had resumed the direction of his enormous financial trans- 
 actions. His stay on board the SMne had been prolonged 
 a little longer than he had intended, but, once beside her, 
 it was very difficult for him to resist Diana's caprices, and, 
 if he had been sincere, he would have owned that he did not 
 regret the time he had lost following, like a second Antony, 
 this fascinating Cleopatra. After a few days Thauziat had 
 regained all his former spirits, his face had lost the sombre 
 expression it had worn at their departure, and to his 
 
230 WILL. 
 
 companions he was the same as he had always been — 
 brilliant and witty ; but through all Ms conversation ran a 
 vein of bitter misanthropy which was henceforth to be the 
 characteristic of his mind, for this conqueror had expe- 
 rienced defeat, and all his life he was doomed to remember 
 it with smarting regret. He never spoke of Louis or 
 H61fene himself, and would allow no one else to do so in his 
 presence; and when Diana once ventured to discuss them, 
 her words had met with so rough a reception that she did 
 not care to try the experiment a second time. 
 
 It was plain that Thauziat's heart was not yet healed of 
 its wound, and there was no question but that at some time 
 or other this grief and this love could be turned to account. 
 Lady Olifaunt often let her thoughts wander to the subject, 
 and secretly she formed a plan of merciless revenge upon 
 Louis, who had so insolently disdained her, and upon 
 Helfene, who was so good, so proud, and so happy. 
 
 Lying on a pile of cushions in the fore-part of the boat 
 under a canopy suspended from the rigging, the beautiful 
 Englishwoman gazed at the azure sky and gave herself up 
 to her cruel dreams, while Lereboulley played bezique and 
 drank grog with Sir James, and Thauziat shot at sea-gulls 
 for want of something better to do. 
 
 In this way they had reached Smyrna, visited Jerusalem 
 and the Holy Land, stayed a while at the Golden Horn to 
 see the fairy vision Constantinople presents and crossed the 
 Grecian archipelago to land at the Piraeus. Athens, to 
 which they had looked forward as a marvel, they thought 
 a dirty and insignificant little town and they weighed 
 anchor disenchanted with Greece, which, from poets' 
 descriptions, they had imagined so splendid and so grand. 
 
WILL. 231 
 
 and which they found to be in reality only a little country 
 where grey was the predominating colour, and where the 
 forests were only thickets, the rivers brooks and the cities 
 villages. 
 
 "Greece only exists in the classics," Thauziat had said. 
 " It is a chimerical land created by ancient literature. If 
 you wish to find it you must not seek the south-east of 
 Europe, but open your Homer and Sophocles, your Aristo- 
 phanes, Thucydides and Herodotus. It is a bright phantom 
 adorned with never-fading souvenirs which it is best to 
 leave surrounded by the mists which are sacred to it ; if 
 you call it forth, you only see a horrible and fleshless 
 skeleton draped with rags. Your Byron was a fool, Sir 
 James, or rather a conceited man who wished to find out 
 how much power he possessed over the minds of his con- 
 temporaries by trying to resuscitate this corpse. He was 
 punished by his death." 
 
 " Byron was a very great poet ; he got a guinea a line for 
 his verses," returned Sir James, looking up from his cards 
 for a moment. 
 
 " Bravo, Sir James ! Poetic as usual ! " cried Thauziat. 
 " LerebouUey, aren't you going to mark sixty for your 
 queens ? Sir James is generally amiable enough to leave 
 you the ladies." 
 
 Sight-seeing, conversing and backbiting, they slowly 
 returned to Marseilles, reaching Paris in May — just when 
 H6lfene's cup of happiness was full. 
 
 LerebouUey went to the Senate a few times, spoke on 
 one or two matters in which he was interested, pulled up 
 the work which was behindhand, and, with a sharpness 
 which cost the Stock Exchange dear, won back in a few 
 weeks the money the Sirhne had cost him. 
 
232 WILL. 
 
 As for Thauziat, never had he attracted more attention 
 than during the first few weeks after his return to France. 
 He was as if possessed by a demon. He openly carried on 
 an intrigue with the wife of Baron Opperger, the rich 
 German banker, who has had such painful passages-at-arms 
 with the police on questions of morality and seems in no- 
 wise ashamed to own it. The papers, glad to get hold of 
 anything so interesting, having told all about Thauziat's 
 relations with the lady and invented a good many details 
 to embellish the story, C16ment called out and fought on two 
 consecutive days two of the most venomous chroniclers of 
 scandal, and stretched them one after the other on the 
 grass. He kept bank all one night at the club and mulcted 
 the punters of a hundred and forty thousand francs, which 
 he divided the following day amongst charitable institu- 
 tions. He won the great international steeplechase at 
 Auteuil with " Braconnier," a horse he had bought for three 
 thousand francs at a selling handicap at a flat race meeting 
 and which he simply lifted over the obstacles at Auteuil. 
 In short, every one was talking of him, and for a month he 
 was the lion of society. 
 
 One evening, in the very zenith of his popularity, Lere- 
 boulley, who had waited in vain for him to keep an 
 appointment he had with him, went to his house. Intimate 
 as he was there, he told the footman there was no need to 
 announce him and went straight into Thauziat's study, 
 where, to his utter surprise, he found his friend stretched 
 on a sofa weeping bitterly. Springing to his feet, C16ment 
 tried to persuade the senator he was mistaken, but the 
 latter had seen too distinctly to be thus put off and 
 endeavoured to make him reveal the cause of his grief 
 
WILL. 233 
 
 Thauziat pretended not to understand his hints, spoke 
 quite unconcernedly, was even able to joke in a few- 
 moments, and gave all the information required about the 
 business which had caused LerebouUey's visit with the 
 utmost clearness. 
 
 Then, after having been seen everywhere perhaps a little 
 too frequently, he shut himself up alone in his own house 
 a prey to such a fit of nervous irritability that he could 
 hardly bear the light in the roomj^he was in. At last, 
 however, he recovered, and LerebouUey having decided to 
 go to Evreux the following week, Clement accepted his 
 invitation to go and stay with him. 
 
 Sir James and Lady Olifaunt, owing to a caprice of 
 Diana's, were also to be the senator's guests. Emilie, who 
 received the beautiful Englishwoman at her house in Paris, 
 though she made her pay dearly for the condescension, had 
 formally told her father that she would not be her hostess 
 in the country, but after an exchange of words, entreating 
 on LerebouUey's side and bitter on Emilie's, the father 
 and daughter came to an arrangement, viz. : — that Lady 
 Olifaunt's visit should last only a fortnight, and that during 
 that time Emilie should go to Boissise, where Madame 
 H6rault would be only too glad to have her. 
 
 For some time Mademoiselle Lereboulley bad had a plan 
 which she thought she could now put into execution. The 
 little church at Theil — a very old Eoman building — had 
 once had the lower part of its walls adorned with curious 
 paintings representing scenes from the Passion, but time had 
 almost defaced them and in some places only faint traces of 
 colour could now be discerned. Emilie had often said to the 
 venerable old priest, whom she aided in his works of charity : 
 
234 WILL. 
 
 " Your pictures are in a terrible state, your reverence. 
 I must come over one day with my brushes and make the 
 figures look something like human beings.'' 
 
 But, with her many duties and her father's guests to 
 monopolise her time, Emilie had never been able to find three 
 weeks to devote to the restoration of the poor old church. 
 
 " This time," she thought, " I shall be able to work as 
 long as I choose. It is only about two miles to Theil from 
 Boissise through the woods, along paths kept like those of a 
 private park." And the day after her arrival at her friend's 
 house, she put her paint-box, brushes, mahl-sticks, and 
 everything she might need into a carriage and set off early 
 in the morning for her " day's work," as she gaily said. 
 She was to eat the lunch she took with her in the vicarage 
 garden, and the others were to join her in the afternoon to 
 see the progress she had made. 
 
 The very day Mademoiselle Lereboulley first climbed her 
 ladder in the church at Theil, Lady Olifaunt, Sir James, 
 Thauziat and some young stock-brokers arrived at the 
 senator's house. 
 
 The estate of the big man of the department was situated 
 on the bank of the Iton, quite near Evreux. One extremity 
 of the park, indeed, reached the outskirts of the town, 
 while the other joined the Boissise woods. The house, 
 built with part of the material of the old Chateau of 
 Xavarre by Lereboulley's father, dates from 1838, was a 
 huge white building of the Louis XV. style with two wings 
 and a flight of eight steps leading to the entrance-hall. The 
 interior was a perfect marvel of luxury; indeed, there were so 
 many of the most precious and most artistic objects crowded 
 into the vast reception-rooms on tbe ground-floor that at 
 
WILL. 235 
 
 Evreux the senator's chateau was generally called " The 
 Lereboulley Museum." 
 
 The park, formed of pieces of ground bought one after 
 the other, had cost a fabulous sum to acquire, and Lere- 
 boulley often said to his guests as he took them to certain 
 parts of his property : 
 
 " Here, my friends, tread with awe. "We are walking on 
 twenty-franc pieces." 
 
 This sixty-acre park, thickly planted with old trees, 
 could compare favourably with that of Boissise, and flowers 
 were there in still greater profusion even than at Madame 
 H6rault's, the senator leaving everything in the hands of 
 English gardeners who obtained the most successful results. 
 The vineries were the admiration of amateur vine-growers 
 all over Europe, and from May to the end of February the 
 senator's table was provided with grapes grown in his own 
 houses. Everything else was in proportion. Some years 
 before Lereboulley had had a mania for pisciculture. The 
 Iton flows through the park, feeding on its way a large 
 sheet of water, and the water in the basins, which were 
 graduated according to the age of the trout and connected 
 with one another by cement canals, was always clear and 
 fresh. Fine netting was placed at the mouth of each basin 
 to keep in the young fish which were fed with sheep's 
 brains and flies bred artificially, and a cascade falling a 
 distance of thirty feet served to unite the basins to the 
 lake, in which the silver fish could be seen glittering in the 
 sun. Lereboulley, who always would obtain a result of 
 some practical use even from a hobby, sent ten thousand 
 trout to the Paris markets every Lent, and, as a joke, 
 Thauziat once sent a letter to his friend addressed, 
 
236 WILL. 
 
 " Monsieur LerebouUey, Senator and Fishmonger," to the 
 indignation of all Evreux. 
 
 Installed in this sumptuous abode the senator's guests 
 found their time fully occupied for two days in looking all 
 over it. Then, their curiosity satisfied, they began to feel 
 the torpor peculiar to every Parisian who has been absent 
 from the Boulevards for eight-and-forty hours, until Lere- 
 bouUey (who was monopolised by Sir James and was 
 undergoing disastrous defeats at b6zique) placed his stables 
 at their disposal. 
 
 After that, every afternoon about three o'clock, when the 
 hottest part of the day was over, a cavalcade, headed by 
 Diana, filed out of the park gates and turned into the 
 Boissise woods. The beautiful Lady Olifaunt, attired in a 
 blue cloth habit with a white piqu6 bodice and a grey felt 
 hat with a long veil, rode along followed by three or four 
 horsemen, of whom Thauziat was one, as though choosing 
 her path at random, though she was in reality very well 
 acquainted with the neighbourhood, for she had taken the 
 trouble to study a large map of the surrounding country 
 which hung in LerebouUey's study. Her indifterence, 
 however, was so well simulated that even Clement was taken 
 in by it and had not a suspicion of the plans which were 
 slowly but surely being brought to perfection in the mind 
 of the perverse but charming woman, unless it was that he 
 was too deeply buried in his own thoughts to exercise his 
 usual penetration. At any rate, for four days did Lady 
 Olifaunt wander in the vicinity of Boissise, each day 
 drawing a little nearer to it like a hawk describing con- 
 tracting circles above its prey to fascinate and benumb it. 
 
 One afternoon about five o'clock, the little hamlet of Theil 
 
WILL. 237 
 
 was aroused from its drowsy quiet by the sound of the 
 hoofs of four horses clattering along the street. The dogs 
 which had been sleeping in the porches awoke and barked, 
 the startled fowls which had been pecking in the dust fled 
 helter-skelter to their yards, and a few women and children 
 coming to the doors to see what was the matter saw it was 
 Diana and her escort. 
 
 The horses were tired, their riders thirsty and the inn 
 in the square with its gables and clematis-covered walls 
 looked very inviting. 
 
 " Let us stop and see if we can get some cider here," 
 said Diana to her attendants. " The horses can rest while 
 we have some refreshment, and it will do us all good." 
 
 Thauziat sprang down, helped Diana to dismount and 
 then the four sat down at a table under a shady arbour. 
 They had not been there five minutes before a low carriage 
 drawn by two ponies passed the inn and drew up at the 
 church door. 
 
 "Why, that is one of Lereboulley's carriages," said 
 Diana. " I recognise the livery. See who it is." 
 
 Thauziat went over to the groom, who had jumped down 
 and was now standing at the ponies' headsi. 
 
 " Are you not one of Monsieur Lereboulley's servants ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Yes sir," answered the man, touching his hat ; " but I 
 have now come from Boissise, where I am in attendance 
 upon Mademoiselle Emilie.'' 
 
 " Ah, Mademoiselle Emilie is staying there 1 " questioned 
 Lady Olifaunt with a slight frown. 
 
 "Yes, madame, with Madame Hdrault. Mademoiselle 
 is working at the paintings in the church." 
 
238 WILL. 
 
 " Let US go and see her, Thauziat," said the beautiful 
 Englishwoman. " Perhaps we shall see something interest- 
 ing. Wait for us a moment, gentlemen." 
 
 At first C16ment followed Diana, then, when they had 
 nearly reached the inner door of the church — 
 
 " Do not let us go in," he said. " Why should we ? 
 We should only disturb Mademoiselle Lereboulley, who is, 
 doubtless, in painting costume." 
 
 "And besides, above all, we should find ourselves in 
 Madame H6rault's presence," interrupted Lady Olifaunt, 
 with a malicious laugh ; " and you are evidently afraid 
 of her." 
 
 "Yes, I am afraid of her," he replied, coldly. "And, 
 since we are agreed upon that point, let us go back." 
 
 " But I am not afraid either of the beautiful H61fene or 
 the virtuous Emilie, so I am going in." 
 
 Thauziat made a movement to restrain her, but he was 
 well enough acquainted with Diana to know that, once 
 she had formed a wish, she would do all in her power 
 to satisfy it, and he accompanied her, feeling a little 
 uneasy and fearing her malice more than her want of 
 tact. 
 
 As the little door swung to again after them, it left them 
 in comparative darkness. All the windows on the left side 
 of the church had been covered over with large tarpaulins 
 to avoid a wrong light ; the sun entered only through the 
 upper panes on the right, and the chapels, thus illumined, 
 looked more bare and dilapidated than ever. Before the 
 altar of the Virgin a small temporary scaffolding had been 
 erected, and on the planks, about three feet from the 
 ground, stood Emilie brush in hand, while at the other end 
 
WILL. 239 
 
 of the scaffolding was sitting Madame H6rault on a straw- 
 bottomed chair, her son in her arms. 
 
 Mademoiselle LerebouUey was restoring a picture of the 
 Nativity. The figure of the Virgin Mary was completely 
 effaced, and, unable to obtain a model, Emilie had begged 
 her friend to sacrifice two or three afternoons to her. 
 Draped in white, her chestnut hair arranged in smooth 
 bands upon her forehead, and with her eyes bent upon her 
 child, who was as rosy and plump as one of Murillo's 
 cherubs, H61fene looked divinely beautiful. A ray from 
 the setting sun illumined her face, throwing golden reflec- 
 tions upon her hair and surrounding her head with a 
 dazzling .halo, and Diana and Clement paused for an instant 
 in the shadow of the baptistery to gaze upon this unex- 
 pected picture which was one of such purity that Lady 
 Olifaunt's heart swelled and a sigh rose to her lips as she 
 looked. She glanced at Thauziat as he stood silent and 
 thoughtful beside her, then — 
 
 " They are happy," she whispered enviously. 
 
 " Yes," returned Clement bitterly, " and they deserve to 
 be. They are pure-minded beings, who are content with 
 the simpler joys of life, and do not seek for consuming 
 emotions and extravagant pleasures. See where these two 
 women have passed their day — in a poor village church 
 filled with silence and shadows ; and they have been quite 
 happy here, glad at being together and at devoting them- 
 selves to effecting some useful work ! Would you care to 
 sit for a picture of the Virgin on some rough boards for 
 hours together, Diana 1 No, of course not. But it is not 
 given to everyone to appreciate such pleasures. We, for 
 instance, my dear, must have those that luxury bestows." 
 
240 WILL. 
 
 And his lips became thinner, as if he were trying to 
 smile. 
 
 Diana shook her head as she looked at him, then she 
 said, gently — 
 
 "You wish to appear above such things in spite of your- 
 self, my poor 016ment, but I can see how you suffer. Do 
 you still love her so much 1 " 
 
 He made no reply, but his face became as hard as 
 stone. 
 
 "Let us go away," said Lady Olifaunt, feeling really 
 sorry for him. " You were right, we ought not to have 
 come in here." 
 
 She turned to go, but the voice of Emilie echoing through 
 the church made her pause. 
 
 "Who is there?" asked Mademoiselle LerebouUey. " I 
 can hear some one speaking. Is it you, your reverence 1 " 
 
 And they heard the shaking planks of the scaffolding 
 creak beneath her weight. She was getting down. 
 
 "We are caught," whispered Diana. "Come, we must 
 put a good face on the matter." 
 
 And moving towards the chapel, she stepped out of the 
 shadow. 
 
 " Ah, it is Lady Olifaunt ! " exclaimed Emilie. " What 
 chance brings you into a church ? Do you intend to give 
 up Protestantism and become a Catholic ? And surely it 
 is not Monsieur de Thauziat who is with you 1 " 
 
 At this name H61fene started and turned pale, and glancing 
 at Mademoiselle LerebouUey, as though to ask her counsel, 
 she perceived that her friend was as agitated as herself. 
 
 " We had stopped here to rest for a little while, Emilie, 
 dear, and- hearing you were working in the church, 
 
WILL. 241 
 
 Monsieur de Thauziat and I were tempted to come 
 and admire your charming handiwork," answered Lady 
 Olifaunt, easily. But," she added with a charming smile, 
 turning to Madame H6rault, "the living picture we saw 
 when we entered was so pretty that we have quite forgotten 
 to look at the paintings."' 
 
 " Ah, H61^ne, there's a nice little compliment for you," 
 cried Emilie, with a nervous laugh. " But how is it that 
 it did not come from you, Clement? You are letting 
 yourself be outdone, dear boy.'' 
 
 " Monsieur de Thauziat may have thought it though he 
 did not choose to give utterance to his thoughts," returned 
 Diana calmly, as she inspected EmUie's work through a 
 long tortoise-shell handled eyeglass, which gave her an air 
 of superlative impertinence. 
 
 Clement, after bowing to Mademoiselle LerebouUey, had 
 gone over to Madame H6rault, who, in her emotion uncon- 
 sciously held out her hand to him. It only rested with 
 him to take it, but pretending not to see it he simply 
 bowed. 
 
 " So now you intend to rival Eaphael, Emilie t " resumed 
 Lady Olifaunt. " Your madonna is very nice, indeed, very 
 nice, and the bambino, especially, is delicious. Almost as 
 delicious as the original." 
 
 She stooped towards the child, who smiled at her blue 
 eyes and golden hair, and held out his little arms to clasp 
 her round the neck. 
 
 " You see, he is a boy, my dear," said Emilie, with bitter 
 irony, " and even at his age he is not too young to want to 
 kiss you." 
 
 " It is I who will kiss him, if his mother will allow me," 
 Q 
 
242 WILL. 
 
 replied Lady Olifaunt, without the least appearance of 
 embarrassment. 
 
 And bending her head, she delicately touched the baby's 
 satin cheek with her lips. 
 
 " One cannot tell yet whom he will be like," she went 
 on. " Just look at him, Thauziat." 
 
 Clement did not move, but he made answer in his serious 
 voice : 
 
 "I hope he will in everything resemble his mother," and 
 with a bow to H6lfene he moved a few steps away. 
 
 "Does he never wear anything round his neck, madame ?" 
 asked Diana. " I think that is a mistake. I have brought 
 back some very pretty coral necklaces from Syria, pray allow 
 me to send the darling one. You will see how admirably his 
 white skin and the rosy pearls will show off one another." 
 
 She bowed to H61fene without giving the latter a chance 
 to reply, then speaking to Emilie who had been watching 
 her narrowly all the time — 
 
 " You have no message to give me for your father 1 " 
 
 " Yes, I have," answered Mademoiselle LerebouUey. 
 " Tell him I hope it will not be long before I am able to 
 return home." 
 
 Then with a friendly nod to Thauziat, she resumed her 
 painting and paid no further attention to Diana. 
 
 " You were very hard on the poor woman," said H61fene 
 after Lady Olifaunt had left the church. "I think she 
 deserved a little more indulgence on your part." 
 
 " Because she flattered and caressed your child," broke 
 in Emilie. "Do not let yourself be taken in by her 
 deceitful ways. You do not know her, and let us hope you 
 never will. Follow my advice, and always keep her away 
 
WILL. 243 
 
 from you and yours, for she may be a source of great 
 danger to you." 
 
 H61fene thought of the first time she had met the 
 beautiful Englishwoman at the gallery where Emilie had 
 exhibited her portrait, and as she remembered the expres- 
 sion of unaccountable hatred in Diana's eyes, her heart 
 grew heavy with presentiments of sorrow. Then her eyes 
 fell on little Pierre who had peacefully fallen asleep upon 
 her knees, and as she clasped him to her breast it seemed 
 to her that with such a shield no blow could reach her. 
 
 Lady Olifaunt and Thauziat had crossed the church in 
 silence, then as they opened the little swing door — 
 
 "Madame H6rault is not very talkative," said Diana; 
 "she did not let us hear the sound of her voice once. But 
 she is very pretty, and I can quite understand the fancy 
 you have taken to her." 
 
 They went out, and, blinded by the sunlight after the 
 dark church, stood for a moment unable to see anything 
 distinctly. Still, it seemed as if there had been an addition 
 to the group awaiting them in the arbour, and as they 
 approached they found it was Louis H6rault who was 
 talking to their friends. 
 
 He had walked through the park from Boissise, and had 
 been much astonished to hear someone call him as he 
 crossed the square. Then he recognised two of his club 
 friends smoking and drinking cider. 
 
 " Why, is it you 1 " he exclaimed. " What on earth are 
 you doing here ? " 
 
 "Waiting for Lady Olifaunt and Thauziat, who have 
 gone into the church. When they come out we are going 
 back to Lereboulley's." 
 
244 WILL. 
 
 Louis' face became very grave. In the church 1 It was 
 there he was going himself to meet Emilie and H616ne. 
 Then the two girls had seen Diana and Cl6ment, but had 
 the meeting been pre-arranged on the latters' part, or had 
 it happened by chance ? On second thoughts, his first 
 impression changed for the better. After all, would they 
 not all be compelled to meet at some time or another ? 
 Would not Thauziat's coolness towards himself eventually 
 disappear, and would they not again be friends as in the 
 past ? Then surely it was better for the reconciliation to 
 be effected as soon as possible. 
 
 Yet he remembered H61fene's hostile sentiments, and the 
 opposition she had shown whenever he had manifested the 
 least desire to make it up with Thauziat. How would she 
 behave towards Diana and C16ment 1 He had no fear as 
 regarded Diana, for H616ne had never even suspected the 
 intrigue he had commenced with the beautiful English- 
 woman. But Clement ? He did not feel the least jealous 
 at the thought that the man who had so passionately loved 
 his wife was tlten beside her. He was perfectly easy on 
 that score, for he had received too many proofs of H616ne's 
 strong sense to feel a moment's anxiety, unfortunately for 
 his young wife, for had Louis been less sure of her, he 
 would have been on his guard against a possible danger, and 
 would have kept Thauziat and Lady Olifaunt as far apart 
 from her as possible. But, under the circumstances, he never 
 dreamt of doing such a thing, and where a vain and frivo- 
 lous woman would have been protected, there was Madame 
 H6rault left defenceless, owing to her moral superiority. 
 
 When he saw Diana and Cl6ment approaching the 
 arbour, Louis advanced to meet them. 
 
WILL. 2415 
 
 " Well, we shall have seen the whole family ! " cried 
 Lady Olifaunfc. "After the mother and the child, here is 
 the father ! How do you do, Monsieur H6rault ? Marriage 
 seems to agree with you very well, for you are looking as 
 fresh as a rose. Come, Thauziat, don't be sulky, but give 
 your hand to your friend, who has been holding out his to 
 you for the last minute." 
 
 C16ment had indeed been confounded by this hand so 
 frankly and cordially stretched out to him, and which his 
 honour forbade him to take. Until then he had contrived 
 to keep away from Louis, and to hide from him his real senti- 
 ments. " I could not see you his without hating him," he 
 had said to H616ne. But did he hate him ? No ! Thauziat's 
 haughty mind could not stoop to hating any one so weak, 
 so he contented himself with exhibiting towards his former 
 friend an iciness which defied all attempts to thaw it. He 
 would not have done H6rault any harm — he felt too much 
 his superior for that ; he merely wished not to meet him, to 
 hold no communication with him. And suddenly he found 
 himself in his presence, with no possible means of avoiding 
 him. Between Louis and himself there was only the space 
 of this outstretched hand, at which he looked without being 
 able to bring himself to take it. 
 
 "If I give him my hand," he thought, "I shall be deceiv- 
 ing him, for I cannot be his friend as before, and, therefore, 
 I shall be a hypocrite and an impostor. But if I refuse I 
 shall be cutting off every means of communication with 
 H61fene, and I can live no longer without seeing or 
 speaking to her. On the one side is deceit, on the other 
 despair." 
 
 For a moment there was a violent struggle between his 
 
^46 WILL. 
 
 love and his pride. Then he made an angry movement 
 and his face blanched. His love had won. 
 
 In the meantime Louis was holding out his hand to 
 Clement, but his eyes were fixed on Diana who had never 
 seemed so beautiful to him as at this moment. Her slight 
 and supple figure, shown off to perfection by her riding- 
 habit, was bent a little backwards in an attitude of volup- 
 tuousness, while under the grey hat, tilted daringly on one 
 side of her golden head, her eyes looked the colour of 
 corn-flowers. Her half-opened lips permitted her little 
 almond-shaped teeth to be seen, and her smile seemed at 
 once tender and contemptuous. The kiss given and received 
 the night of the ball returned to Louis' memory, and as 
 he thought of it a thrill passed through him, and his heart 
 beat wildly. He forgot Thauziat, he forgot Hdl^ne, 
 he could see nothing but this perverse and adorable 
 woman, whose love must cause so cruel, yet so delicious, 
 a transport. 
 
 Thauziat's hand touching his own aroused him from 
 his passionate contemplation, and he pressed and held it 
 closely. 
 
 " You will not refuse it me again 1 " he asked. " Tell 
 me that all which has kept us apart is forgotten 1 " 
 
 element bent his head, and answered in a low voice — 
 
 " Yes, all." 
 
 " Oh, I know you too well," resumed Louis. " I was 
 sure your anger could not last long. You have seen H61fene 
 in the church, and spoken to her 1 I will make peace 
 between you, and you will be great friends. You see, old 
 boy, she is a matron now, and we are both thoroughly 
 domesticated ; our life would be far too simple and mono- 
 
WILL. 247 
 
 tonous for you. Besides, you are not made for wedded 
 bliss. You thought yoii were, but you may esteem yourself 
 very lucky for not having been permitted to gratify your 
 fancy. Eagles like you are not meant to have their wings 
 clipped ; for a poor gander like your humble servant it's 
 different." 
 
 " There, what do you think of that 1 " cried Diana, gaily. 
 
 As Louis spoke, Thauziat's lips had curled sarcastically. 
 H6rault had wished to dispel the last clouds between them, 
 and he had only succeeded in exciting a contemptuous pity. 
 Then, this was how this man so beloved appreciated his 
 happiness ! This was how he spoke of this woman, as the 
 possessor of whom his eyes ought to have flashed with 
 pride whenever he mentioned her name. A good mother, 
 and thoroughly domesticated! As in a burlesque, the 
 triumphal car was changing to a child's go-cart. 
 
 " Well, my dear Monsieur H6rault, now you have drawn 
 us such a charming picture of your wedded happiness, pray 
 accept our heartiest congratulations," said Lady Olifaunt, 
 gravely. "You certainly have no cause to regret your 
 former life." 
 
 " Who knows ? " answered Louis, gazing ardently at the 
 beautiful Englishwoman. 
 
 " Oh, no, you have not, unless you are most abominably 
 ungrateful. Your love is secure, your life regular, you have 
 nothing at all to do with the tumult of the passions, to 
 reverse what you so wittily said to Thauziat just now. 
 Keep your feet warm and your head cool, and you will live 
 to a great age.'' 
 
 " You are laughing at me, madame, but I make no pro- 
 test; you have a right to do so." 
 
2i8 WILL. 
 
 " It is very kind of you to concede that right to me." 
 
 " You are capable of taking it if I did not do so." 
 
 " Oh, I am always ready to take anything that pleases 
 me." 
 
 As she uttered these words she looked at Louis through 
 her eyeglasses, with her eyes half closed and her mouth 
 drawn into a coquettish pout. 
 
 " Do not flatter yourself that that applies to you," she 
 added, saucily. " You know I don't count you any longer, 
 now you are tied to someone else's apron strings.'' 
 
 " I am not tied so tightly as you think," he returned 
 eagerly. " Have I your permission to come and see you 1 " 
 
 " No, no, dear boy. Go on with your billing and cooing 
 in your own dovecot. Thauziat, you are a witness that I 
 refuse to receive him." 
 
 " I will come in spite of your refusal," he retorted, laugh- 
 ing. " Should I be doing anything so very wicked ? " 
 
 "Don't have the faintest hope that you will have the 
 chance of doing anything wicked ! " 
 
 And as she spoke, Diana passed before him, displaying 
 beneath her raised skirt a dainty little varnished boot, the 
 heel of which struck the paving-stones with a cavalier tap. 
 
 " Come, gentlemen, we have stayed chattering long 
 enough. We have a good three miles to ride before we 
 shall be home." 
 
 She went over to her horse, and without asking her per- 
 mission Louis took her in his arms and lifted her straight 
 into her saddle. She merely looked down at him with her 
 provoking smile, and said — 
 
 " Why, you are stronger than I should have thought." 
 
 She gathered up the reins, touched her horse with the 
 
WILL. 249 
 
 whip, and, with a wave of the hand to Louis, cantered off 
 amidst a cloud of dust. 
 
 " Au revoir, Thauziat. Adieu, gentlemen," cried H6rault, 
 left alone in the middle of the square. His eyes seemed 
 dazzled, his blood felt boiling in his veins, and with a sigh 
 he turned and entered the church. 
 
 On the way home, Diana and Cl6ment rode side by side. 
 For a long time there was silence between them, until at 
 last Lady Olifaunt said to her companion — 
 
 " Well, now you are reconciled to Louis in appearance at 
 any rate. It will be far better so, for you were becoming 
 quite gloomy." 
 
 element turned a face as sombre as the night towards 
 her. 
 
 " Twice have I lied, Diana — in word and in deed. I have 
 given Louis my hand, and I have told him all is forgotten. 
 It is the first time I have ever committed a base action, and 
 it is causing me acute suffering.'' 
 
 " Oh, you exaggerate ! All's fair in love ! Why look at 
 the example your Pylades is setting you 1 If I had chosen, 
 I could have brought him back to dinner with us. He 
 betrayed his wife, in thought, a dozen times during the few 
 minutes we passed with him. And are you to have any 
 scruples 1 Don't be so like a knight-errant, but act up to 
 your generation. There is no room for morality nowadays, 
 and only fools are virtuous." 
 
 " I had but one religion, and that was my honour," said 
 Thauziat, in a choking voice. "Now I have been false 
 to it." 
 
 " Your religion is the love you bear a woman. Is not 
 love the supreme motive of human action 1 Every truly 
 
250 WILL. 
 
 great deed which is done, even though it should be great in 
 infamy, is inspired by love. Place yourself above the 
 common level, Cldment. Can the general principles which 
 govern the world influence a certain class of beings 1 Will 
 you allow yourself to be strangled by moral cords which 
 only exist by the will of mankind? What is the good 
 of being superior to other men if you bend beneath the 
 same yoke 1 Throw off your fetters, and take your own 
 pleasure as your only law. That is what I have done for 
 a long time past, and I have never regretted and do not 
 now regret doing so. In short, there is but one thing of 
 importance — you love." 
 
 " Madly ! " answered Thauziat. 
 
 "Then remember what I told you more than a year ago 
 — that you and Louis H6rault would be rivals. You see, I 
 had a sort of insight into the future. You answered me with 
 a laugh ; ' When that happens, I will give him up to you, 
 and that shall be my revenge.' And now the day has come, 
 element. But I will show some consideration for your 
 conscience since it is so very sensitive. I will not ask you 
 to give Louis H6rault to me, I shall be able to reconquer 
 him unaided. And when you j see the beautiful madonna 
 betrayed and outraged by the man to whom she has sacri- 
 ficed you, your virtue will probably wing its way to heaven 
 for good and all, and you will cease to be an angel to find 
 yourself a man." 
 
 "Diana!" cried C16ment violently, "I forbid you — " 
 
 " Nonsense," retorted the beautiful Englishwoman, stop- 
 ping the words on his lips, " nothing is ever forbidden to a 
 woman." 
 
 And as Thauziat again attempted to speak and to 
 implore her — 
 
WILL. 261 
 
 " Be quiet," she said. " The others are coming up and 
 may hear what we are saying." 
 
 Then she added in a whisper, 
 
 "And when the woman you love is in your arms 
 remember that it was Diana who placed her there." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 With the autumn hard work began again. Lereboulley, 
 Thauziat and H6rault, more closely united than ever, were 
 making every preparation for the floating of the cable com- 
 pany, and frequent meetings were held at LerebouUey's 
 offices, Eue Le Peletier. There were several important 
 matters to arrange before they could really embark upon 
 the enterprise. The English company, startled by this 
 attempt at competition and strong in the possession of a 
 cable, were prepared to begin a war to the death. Therefore, 
 it was only reasonable to expect a lowering of the rates of 
 transmission, and consequently it would be necessary to lay 
 the cable and to work it afterwards with such economy that 
 they would not only be able to fight but to conquer. This 
 at least was what Louis explained to his wife with so many 
 details and so much prolixity that H616ne looked upon the 
 scheme as one of tremendous importance and risk. 
 
 Still the persistence with which he made it the theme of 
 conversation on any and every opportunity, and the way in 
 which he always accounted for the evenings he spent out 
 (which were now very numerous) by meetings he was 
 forced to attend, began to make his young wife uneasy, and 
 one day that Emilie was dining at the Faubourg Poissonifere, 
 H6l6ne suddenly asked her — 
 
 "Will your father go to America to see about the cable 
 as he did to Corinth about the cutting of the canal ? " 
 
WILL. 253 
 
 " Papa went to Corintla to be in Lady Olifaunt's society," 
 answered Emilie, laughing. " Without the yacht and the 
 charming passenger aboard it he would have sent a repre- 
 sentative. Besides, I never hear him speak of America or 
 the cable either." 
 
 " But he and Louis and Thauziat pass nearly all their 
 evenings together studying plans." 
 
 Emilie glanced round the table, saw that H6lfene was 
 anxious and Louis embarrassed, and guessing that her 
 friend was trying to lead her upon dangerous ground, she 
 cut short all further inquiries by saying — 
 
 " Very possibly they do. My father never tells me any- 
 thing about his business matters." 
 
 "If he told you about the discussions we have, you 
 would not be very interested," said Louis, becoming himself 
 again. "They are taken up by technical details and end- 
 less columns of figures. Just imagine — " 
 
 "Oh, have mercy on us, Louis dear, and reserve your 
 arguments for when we are alone," cried H616ne, with 
 assumed gaiety. 
 
 Then turning a searching gaze upon her husband — 
 
 " For myself, I am always ready to listen to you ; it 
 teaches me." 
 
 The conversation was changed, but after dinner, under 
 pretence of smoking a cigarette, Emilie took Louis into his 
 study, and said abruptly — 
 
 "So you have concealments from your wife, have 
 you ? What is the meaning of all these tales about con- 
 sultations with Thauziat and my father of an evening ? 
 As if my father attended to anything but his own amuse- 
 ment after seven o'clock ! Perhaps you do the same ? " 
 
254 WILL. 
 
 " You are dreaming ! What on earth can you be think- 
 ing of?" 
 
 " Of what is very probable with such a nature as yours 
 to deal with. You have been lucky enough to obtain an 
 angelic wife, but the chances are that her goodness wearies 
 you, and that you run after vice to indulge your taste for 
 contrast. You are too secure in your love, and it leaves you 
 plenty of leisure time to employ in doing wrong. What you 
 wanted was a wife to rule you with a rod of iron, and who, 
 at the slightest suspicion of infidelity on your part, would 
 have been ready to pay you back in your own coin. Then 
 you would have been so busy defending yourself that you 
 would have had no time to attack. The fact of the matter 
 is, you are too happy, and now you are seeking the means 
 of damping your joy a little." 
 
 " My dear Emilie, that is all very keen and ingenious 
 on your part, and I am exceedingly flattered by the high 
 opinion you have formed of my character. But you are at 
 fault. I am not the monster you think, and if I do go out 
 without my wife a little oftener than I should, I only 
 indulge in very innocent amusements." 
 
 "Then there is some truth in my conjectures?" exclaimed 
 Mademoiselle LerebouUey. 
 
 ■' In your conjectures, no ; but as far as facts go, yes. 
 It is not very lively for me the evenings that I pass at 
 home with H616ne and my grandmother. As soon as 
 dinner is over, my wife shuts herself up in the child's room, 
 and there is nothing for me to do but smoke a cigar and 
 doze in an arm-chair. At nine o'clock my wife reappears, 
 and, though I allow that her society is very charming, yet 
 after a time it becomes monotonous, and so what am I to 
 
WILL. 255 
 
 do f I feel I want some amusement, that I need stirring 
 up to prevent me slipping into a drowsy, domestic Ufe, and 
 so I go out." 
 
 " Where do you go ? " 
 
 " To the club, generally." 
 
 " Do you play 1 " 
 
 "A little. Oh, very little." 
 
 " And of course you lose 1 " 
 
 " Sometimes yes and sometimes no. I have about as 
 much bad luck as good. Nothing serious, simply a steady- 
 going family man's game." 
 
 " You are quite sure that it is to the club you go ? 
 Don't tell me lies, because I shall soon find them out." 
 
 " Where do you think I go ? " 
 
 " I don't think at all, I only fear. If you go to the club 
 why don't you tell your wife so? There is nothing 
 criminal in it, and it would be much better than telling her 
 untruths. Tou will let it out yourself one of these days, or 
 someone else will unconsciously betray you, and then the 
 confidence H61fene ought to have in you will be shaken, and 
 she will be grieved. It is very foolish to act as you are 
 doing." 
 
 " If I told her I went to the club, it would only worry 
 her. She does not understand as you do what is the life 
 men lead at Paris. She would imagine that I had again 
 plunged into the hell whence she naively flatters herself 
 she has rescued me. In short I wish to avoid discus- 
 sions, and I prefer to spare her any anxiety." 
 
 " Well, then, don't be content with make-believes, but 
 spare it her in reality. But we have been talking for over 
 a quarter of an hour, and if we stay here any longer our 
 
256 WILL. 
 
 absence may give rise to suspicions, so let us go back to 
 the drawing-room." 
 
 This conversation gave Emilie much food for thought. 
 She was too shrewd to accept Louis' explanations for more 
 than they were worth, and she determined to find out 
 exactly what her former play-fellow was doing. To this 
 end she skilfully questioned her acquaintances, and in less 
 than a week she knew that the majority of the evenings 
 Louis was away from home were passed at the house of 
 Lady Olifaunt. 
 
 Neither was H61fene deceived by her husband's tales, but, 
 unlike Emilie, she did not wish to ascertain the truth. To 
 her, doubt seemed preferable to certainty, for she felt that 
 once the truth was revealed to her, her happiness would be 
 gone for ever, and rather than attempt to know, she closed 
 both ears and eyes, so afraid of what she might learn was 
 this woman hitherto so courageous. 
 
 She consoled herself for her anxieties and troubles with 
 her child, and it was when she was with him that she 
 showed herself in all the height of her beauty and fascina- 
 tion, for over her noble face would steal an expression of 
 loving gentleness which made her eyes shine, and her lips 
 smile with the ineffable charm of proud motherhood. As 
 she held her boy in her arms as in a soft, warm cradle, softly 
 singing lullabies to soothe him to sleep, or dancing him on 
 her knees while shouts of laughter rippled from his little 
 mouth like scattered pearls, she offered a spectacle endued 
 with exquisite poetry, and it was then that Louis should 
 have joined her to place himself in unison with her heart 
 and mind. It would have been enough for him to see her 
 so young, so spirited and so devoted, for him to have been 
 
WILL. 257 
 
 filled with a new affection formed of tenderness and respect. 
 He would have understood that H61fene was not only a 
 beautiful woman, but also a faultless mother, and that, if 
 the bonds of their love had been loosened for an instant, 
 chains yet stronger, because welded by gratitude, had been 
 forged to bind him to this perfect creature. 
 
 But, instead of following her to their child's room, he 
 stayed in the smoking-room with a cigar between his lips, 
 or in the drawing-room reading a newspaper. In vain did 
 old Madame H6rault say to him — 
 
 " Do come and see little Pierre undressed. You will be 
 astonished at his beauty and his pretty little ways. He's 
 fit to be sent to a show." 
 
 Louis only smiled at what he called a grandmother's 
 exaggerations, and answered in hackneyed phrases about 
 the necessity of hiding all the little details connected with 
 the rearing of a child from its father's eyes, and quoted the 
 English system, with the nursery away from the other 
 rooms, to prevent the children's noise reaching the parents' 
 ears. 
 
 " But, my dear boy, this child never does make a noise ; 
 he is always laughing and chirping to himself," argued the 
 old grandmother. " He's a perfect marvel ! And dressed 
 like a prince ! You should see the lace he has." 
 
 " Oh, yes, he's very nice, but all. children are the same. 
 I sha'n't feel much interest in him till he begins to talk." 
 ,-J Madame H6rault said no more, and only sighed as she 
 thought of the pleasure of which her grandson was depriv- 
 ing himself. Then as she could not induce Louis to go to 
 the child's room, she herself spent enough time there for 
 them both, standing entranced beside the cradle of little 
 
258 WILL. 
 
 Pierre, whose chest heaved regularly as he slept with his 
 fair hair peeping oit from under the little cap trimmed 
 with Mechlin lace, and his tiny, pink fists clenched as if he 
 were clinging with might and main to his delicious slumber. 
 H6lene, in the meantime, busied herself with knitting little 
 white socks as she sat by the window letting her thoughts 
 wander where they would, and often they bore her far away 
 from this happy room where dwelt the consoling angel. 
 She asked herself if, in her maternal selfishness, she had not 
 done wrong to sacrifice her husband to her child, for in her 
 generous way she blamed only herself and almost excused 
 Louis for drifting away from her. She saw that the bond- 
 age which was so sweet to her could not be a delight to 
 him, and that the existence which contented her must seem 
 very monotonous to this young rake, though still, she had to 
 confess to herself that with a little self-denial he could have 
 put up with it. Did she not try to make it as attractive 
 for him as possible, and would not her efforts have been 
 successful if his nature had been less superficial and 
 frivolous 1 He never saw her otherwise than smiling and 
 good-tempered, and she even affected a coquetry she had 
 never shown before, and devoted great attention to her 
 dress. But it was merely trouble thrown away. Her 
 husband gave her a careless kiss, paid her a slight compli- 
 ment without seeming to think of what he was saying, and 
 remained just as far away from her as ever. She did not 
 think he was tired of her ; she only told herself, " I must 
 be patient. He will come back to me of his own accord 
 when baby is weaned," and, with her way of always seeing 
 the best side of things, she looked forward to a second 
 honeymoon. 
 
WILL. 259 
 
 But she was very wrong in her expectations, as she 
 found too soon. As Louis went out nearly every evening, 
 it was one of H61fene's delights to go to her husband's room 
 and sit there alone for an hour or two. It seemed to her 
 that thus she drew near to him, and that she left a trace of 
 herself ia the silent, empty room — a subtle essence of sweet 
 affection which in the end would reach Louis' heart. She 
 arranged all the little ornaments on the mantelpiece, opened 
 wardrobes and cupboards to place sachets among the linen 
 and clothes, and rendered all the little affectionate cares 
 which she would have liked to lavish on her loved one to 
 the things he used. Then, when she had finished her work, 
 she seated herself in Louis' arm-chair, took up from the 
 table the open book or paper, and tried to concentrate her 
 thoughts on the same subject as he had done, and so put 
 herself ia intellectual communication with him. As she 
 sat dreaming, she forgot the flight of time, and one evening 
 she was only aroused about midnight by the sound of her 
 husband coming in, humming an air from some comic 
 opera. She had barely time to catch up her light and run 
 away, for she did not wish to be caught in his room, 
 apparently forcing her way into it. 
 
 Louis never for a moment suspected his wife's frequent 
 presence in his chamber. He had never noticed the faiut, 
 pure perfume which lingered after she had withdrawn, 
 silently and lightly as a good fairy watching in the shadows. 
 He always found everything in perfect order, but he never 
 attempted to discover whose hand it was that worked so 
 unobtrusively for his comfort. Perhaps he had never even 
 noticed that there was an improvement in the way his 
 house was kept since his marriage. 
 
260 WILL. 
 
 One evening a new piece was coming out at the Palais 
 Eoyal, and Louis hurried away immediately after dinner. 
 H61fene, after putting her little boy to bed and playing a 
 game of cards with Madame H6rault, feeling a little low- 
 spirited, went up to the anteroom before her husband's 
 bedroom and fastened herself in. There, in the semi-dark- 
 ness, she gave way to the vague but painful impressions 
 with which her mind was filled. There was no reason why 
 she should feel more worried than usual, and yet, as she 
 lay back in an arm-chair with her hands lying listlessly in 
 her lap, she could not keep from crying, and the tears 
 flowed down her cheeks in a sparkling stream. It seemed 
 as if she had a presentiment of approaching misfortune, or 
 as if she had suddenly become aware of some harm which 
 had been wrought her. 
 
 In about half-an-hour she called her common-sense to her 
 aid, and, unable to find the shadow of an excuse for her 
 strange grief, she was obliged to put it down to nervous- 
 ness. Then, angry at this unusual predominance of her 
 physical over her mental powers, she scolded herself and 
 forced herself to become calmer, and wishing to find some 
 active occupation which would employ hands and thoughts 
 at the same time, she went into her husband's bedroom. 
 
 She smiled as she looked round at the disorder in which 
 he had left it. He generally left keys, money, letters 
 lying about anywhere — on the mantlepiece, in the vases, 
 or in his pockets, and to-night the servants, who were 
 making up for the fatigue of the day by sitting over their 
 supper in the kitchen, had not yet come to make all tidy 
 for the night. Hdlfene picked up the clothes left on the 
 floor, and noticing some papers thrown pell-mell on a little 
 
WILL. 261 
 
 table, she. gathered them together and was about to place 
 them in a drawer, when a thick card, engraved in the 
 corner with a Latin motto in steel blue Gothic characters 
 attracted her attention. "Arm et odi" said the device, and 
 on the card was traced one line in stiff, angular hand- 
 writing : " To-morrow at three o'clock, Eue de Moscou." 
 That was all, no address and no signature. 
 
 The other papers fell on the table again, and in her hand 
 H61^ne held only the small, thick card, from which she 
 could not take her eyes. The motto, which she hardly 
 understood, with its metallic letters of changing blue, 
 seemed to her to twist and writhe like the coils of a snake, 
 and she felt a dull pain at her heart as from the poison of 
 these venomous characters. Involuntarily she raised the 
 card to her face, and from the faint perfume which it 
 exhaled, and which seemed to penetrate to her very brain, 
 H61fene felt sure the message was from a rival. At the 
 thought, the blood rushed to lier head, crimsoning her 
 cheeks, burning her brain ; her feet became icy cold, and 
 everything swam around her. A deathly faintness had 
 come over her, and, afraid of falling senseless in this room, 
 she soaked her handkerchief in a bowl of water which was 
 standing on a tray, and pressed it to her forehead. 
 
 Gradually she recovered herself, and became able to 
 examine this scrap of paper, which contained in the enigma 
 of the words it bore the fate of her life. "To-morrow, at 
 three o'clock." But why should it be a criminal appoint- 
 ment? What was there to prove that the woman — for 
 there could be no doubt that the message had come from a 
 woman — who had written it was her husband's mistress ? 
 Alas ! the subtle, voluptuous perfume answered that question 
 
262 WILL. 
 
 but too plainly. It revealed the woman who enveloped 
 men with the seductions of her flesh, and who wished, even 
 when she was absent from them, to surround them with the 
 spell of her charms, of which this perfume was one of the 
 most potent and most dangerous weapons. Yes, it was 
 from a mistress ! 
 
 But when had this card been sent ? Had he received it 
 that morning or that evening ? When he came home, was 
 he returning from his appointment ; had he just left this 
 woman's arms with her kisses still warm upon his cheeks 1 
 Or was it on the morrow they were to meet at three o'clock 
 at the Eue de Moscou 1 Eue de Moscou ! Where 1 In 
 what house 1 He evidently knew the trysting-place well, 
 for no number was mentioned. And he must see this 
 woman in other places besides, since a special meeting-place 
 was mentioned. 
 
 All these ideas passed through H6l6ne's mind in a per- 
 fectly logical sequence. She could see a long way into the 
 .shadows which had been so carefully cast around her, and 
 she wished to penetrate them still further. She hurried to 
 a bookcase and looked for a Latin dictionary. The word 
 " odi " was the word she could not understand, and she had 
 a vague idea that, once she knew its meaning, all would be 
 made clear to her. She found the book she was seeking, 
 and, by the light of a candle, commenced hurriedly turning 
 over the leaves, murmuring all the time, as if to conjure up 
 the mysterious word — 
 
 " Odi — odi — odi — here it is ! Odi — I hate." 
 
 Again she looked at the card and read : " Atno et odi," 
 then translated : " I love and I hate." 
 
 She put the dictionary back in its place, closed the book- 
 
WILL. • 263 
 
 case and returned to her husband's bedroom. In a second 
 the image of the golden- haired woman she had met for the 
 first time with Emilie at the picture-gallery, and who had 
 glanced at her with eyes so full of hate, arose before her. 
 She did not hesitate, she did not doubt, the woman who 
 had sent that card could be none other than Diana Olifaunt. 
 The love and hatred which she so boldly avowed were 
 centred on Louis and H6l6ne. It was Louis she loved, 
 H61toe she hated. 
 
 The young wife, now cool and clear-headed, felt weighed 
 down by a burden of sorrow, of which her melancholy, appar- 
 ently so causeless, had been but the magnetic forerunner. 
 She was filled with a measureless indignation against this 
 woman for thus robbing her of her happiness. All that 
 had happened within the last eighteen months returned to 
 her mind, and she saw cause and efiect with perfect lucidity 
 and judgment. She recognised the value of the advice she 
 had received and had not followed; she remembered that 
 Emilie had prophesied before her marriage what would 
 surely come to pass. She could hear her saying now, 
 " Louis is a child ; marry Thauziat." 
 
 Tliauziat ! His handsome face appeared before her eyes 
 like a gloomy, sorrowful phantom haunting her memory. 
 He also suffered, he too was unhappy. How he had gazed 
 at little Pierre the day he had entered the church I And 
 in what a tone had he said, " I hope he will resemble his 
 mother in every way." Would she have been happier with 
 him ? Yes, she confessed to herself now that she would. 
 His every thought, his every deed, would have had her 
 as their starting-point. He would have adored her as 
 his only divinity, he would have consumed his very soul 
 
264 WILL. 
 
 at her feet as the only incense pure enough to be offered to 
 her. The tears sprang to her eyes, hut she passionately 
 dashed them away, for to her it seemed as if her involun- 
 tary return to the past were treachery to her husband, and 
 even if he were guilty, she had no right to let her thoughts 
 wander as he had allowed his love to stray. 
 
 Suddenly she realised the misfortune which had befallen 
 her, and it was as if all the infamy, the shame, and perfidy 
 she could possibly imagine had been rolled into one enor- 
 mous burden, and then permitted to fall upon her, to crush 
 her to the earth. She uttered a moan, and then remem- 
 bering where she was, and fearing to be surprised in this 
 despair, she walked firmly to her own rooms. 
 
 She passed through her bedroom, which was lighted by a 
 night lamp, and went into little Pierre's room. She dis- 
 missed the woman who was with the child, and then, seat- 
 ing herself beside the cradle, she leant her head against the 
 iron rod from which hung the curtains beneath whose 
 shadow the child was calmly sleeping, and there allowed 
 her bursting heart to overflow. Her suffering was intense, 
 and yet not one thought of anger passed through her mind. 
 She folded her hands to pray, and her simple, touching 
 petition went up to Heaven. " My Father," she said, " you 
 see my sorrow, and I ask from you but one consolation in 
 this world — leave me my little one. As long as I have his 
 smile to greet me, as long as his little arms are clasped 
 around my neck, I shall have no right to murmur, and I 
 will bear my grief with resignation. He will be my con- 
 solation, and perhaps, through him, shall I be enabled to 
 reclaim his father.'' 
 
 Drop by drop her tears flowed on to the pillow. One of 
 
WILL. 265 
 
 these hot pearls fell on the child's forehead. He moved, 
 turned his head, and, opening his eyes for an instant, 
 recognised his mother. His little mouth smiled, his blue 
 eyes sparkled, then again he fell asleep, and was lost in his 
 dreams. As he moved, H^l^ne saw on his white neck the 
 coral necklace Lady Olifaunt had sent him the day after 
 their meeting in the church. She felt that the trinket must 
 bear with it a curse, as did everything that came from that 
 woman, and, unfastening the clasp, she rose, and crossing 
 over to the fireplace, where a bright fire was still burning, 
 she threw it into the flames. Then she resumed her seat 
 beside the cradle and continued her watch. 
 
 The next day at lunch Louis was very affectionate and 
 gay, for his heart was overflowing with a delight he could 
 not repress. He did not notice H^lfene's pallor, for he was 
 one of those good-tempered egotists who think that every- 
 one else is happy when they are pleased themselves. So he 
 joked with his grandmother, discussed his financial schemes 
 with his wife, in short, was thoroughly good-natured, and 
 rose from the table with the conviction that he had shown 
 every kindness to his family. 
 
 And yet H61fene, unable to control herself sufficiently to 
 have hidden the true state of her feelings from a less care- 
 less observer than Louis, had not uttered a word, and had 
 hardly tasted anything. She was consumed with a burning 
 fever, and every moment she raised her glass to her lips 
 and eagerly drank some water, in the hope of quenching 
 the fire which was inwardly consuming her. She listened 
 to her husband's jests with a bitter smile, perfectly aware 
 that it was the delight at having seen his mistress the 
 evening before, or the joyful anticipation of meeting her 
 
266 WILL. 
 
 that very day, that made the happiness bubble up from his 
 heart to his lips. His hypocrisy maddened her ; she would 
 have liked violence, brutality even, better than these lies. 
 If he had suddenly risen to his feet, and looking her full 
 in the face, had cried : " I have had enough of all this 
 deceit ! I love another woman, and I am going to meet 
 her ! " she would have answered, " I am glad to hear you 
 say so. It is cruel, it is infamous, but it is not cowardly. 
 You break my heart, but you do not betray my trust, and 
 at any rate you do not soil my lips with kisses like those 
 you have just bestowed upon another !" 
 
 But Louis was not so heroic. He went on talking, evi- 
 dently thinking of other things the while ; then, when he 
 left the table, he went to see his son — a thing he was not 
 in the habit of doing every day. H6lfene followed him to 
 their child's room, eager to see how nearly deceit could 
 counterfeit truth. Louis played with his little boy, smiled 
 at and kissed him, and danced him in his arms with all 
 the frank good temper possible. His ease and tranquillity 
 were such that a doubt came into his young wife's mind, 
 and she asked herself if she had not been dreaming for the 
 last few hours. Wishing to assure herself of the truth of 
 her discovery, she asked — 
 
 " What are you going to do to-day 1 " 
 
 He looked up uneasily, as if he had noticed a threat in 
 the way the words were pronounced. 
 
 " Why do you ask 1 " he returned. 
 
 " Because I have arranged to meet Emilie to go and 
 choose the hangings for my boudoir, and I should have 
 liked to have had your opinion when I bought them." 
 
 " What time do you meet her V 
 
WILL. 267 
 
 " At half-past two." 
 
 He looked vexed. 
 
 " I am very sorry, but I am afraid I cannot come. I 
 should have been delighted to accompany you, we so seldom 
 go out together; but business before everything. They 
 expect me at Saint Denis." 
 
 " Can you not send word to say you cannot go 1 There 
 is plenty of time— it is only "one o'clock — and I should be 
 so glad if you would come, Louis." 
 
 H616ne uttered the last words almost in the tone of a 
 prayer. This time her husband did not look at her, and 
 his face became grave and troubled. For a moment he 
 seemed to hesitate, then he answered, 
 
 " Forgive me, but it would be impossible. My business 
 this afternoon is of the gravest importance." 
 
 " Very well," said H^l^ne, her heart palpitating wildly. 
 
 He went over to her as if he wished to ask her pardon, 
 and drawing her to him, he kissed her affectionately on the 
 forehead. She quickly disengaged herself from his em- 
 brace j the tears rose to her eyes, but she restrained them 
 by a strong effort of will, and forcing herself to show a 
 perfectly calm countenance — 
 
 " Then good-bye until this evening," she said. And she 
 went into her own room. 
 
 Henceforth she could have no doubt, but she meant to 
 make her certainty as complete as possible, and to see her 
 rival. She hastily dressed herself in her out-door clothes, 
 put on a veil thick enough to conceal her features, and' 
 ordering the carriage, drove to the Lereboulleys'. 
 
 She had determined to reveal all to Emilie. When she 
 had told Louis that she had an appointment with her friend, 
 
268 WILL. 
 
 she had already made up her mind to ask the latter to 
 advise her and assist her to protect herself. She had ab- 
 solute confidence in Mademoiselle LerebouUey, for she knew 
 the strength and breadth of her mind. No one else would 
 she have allowed to see the wound her love had received ; 
 but had not Emilie been acquainted with her hesitations 
 before her marriage ? Besides, had anything been hidden 
 from her of the life the young couple had led for the last 
 year? Perhaps, with her keenness and penetration, 
 Mademoiselle LerebouUey had already guessed the answer 
 to the enigma for which H6lfene was seeking. If only she 
 would tell it her and spare her all humiliating inquiries 
 and painful searches ! Yes, she must question her again 
 and again, until she had told her all she knew. And, in 
 her haste to know her misfortune in all its details, the 
 young wife longed for space to be annihilated that she 
 might the sooner satisfy her cruel curiosity. 
 
 When at last the carriage stopped, H6l^ne sprang out on 
 to the pavement, dismissed the coachman, and eagerly asked 
 if Mademoiselle LerebouUey was at home. The doorkeeper 
 replied in the affirmative, and sounded a gong, which 
 brought a footman out to the steps. 
 
 " Mademoiselle is in the studio,'' he said ; and leading 
 the way, he took Madame H6rault up to the second storey 
 of the house, opened a door, and withdrew. 
 
 Seated at an easel, Emilie was giving the last touches to 
 a charming study of some roses, orchids, hyacinths and 
 ferns, which were lying on a table before her. At the sound 
 of the door opening she turned her head, and recognising 
 H6lene uttered a cry of delight ; then she rose, and with 
 her palette still on the thumb of her left hand, went to 
 
WILL. 269 
 
 meet her visitor, and kissing her, made her sit down beside 
 the easel. 
 
 "But what is the matter?" she asked, as Madame 
 H6rault raised her veil and displayed her face blanched by 
 worry ; " you look quite upset." 
 
 H61fene bent her head ; her emotion choked her, and she 
 could not speak. She had not thought that the confession 
 of her grief and her husband's misconduct would have been 
 so painful for her to make. But Emilia knew too much al- 
 ready not to guess what her Mend hesitated to tell her, 
 and she determined to question her. 
 
 " Is Louis the cause of your trouble 1 " 
 
 " Yes,'' replied H616ne. 
 
 And as soon as she had answered, her words flowed 
 freely, and she was able to tell all. In vain did 
 Mademoiselle LerebouUey attempt to reason with her and 
 to shake her convictions, by saying that there might only 
 be a chance coincidence between the accusing note and the 
 refusal of her husband to give up to H61fene the hour fixed 
 for the meeting. After all the card was not dated ; perhaps 
 it referred to the day before, and who was to prove that 
 Louis had kept the appointment 1 And, even if it were 
 for that very day, who was to know that Louis was going 
 to keep it ? " 
 
 " I am ! " said Madame H6rault. 
 
 "And how?" 
 
 " I intend to watch him." 
 
 " My dear, you will not do as you say ! " 
 
 " You may be sure I will do it, unless you tell me the 
 name of the woman with whom Louis is so abominably 
 deceiving me." 
 
270 WILL. 
 
 " How am I to know who she is 1 " 
 
 " By her shameless device, which is worthy of the lowest 
 woman in Paris/' cried H61ene. 
 
 And drawing out her card-case, she took from it a small 
 piece of paper on which she had written the Latin words 
 and held it out to Emilie. 
 
 The latter became very grave — she recognised the 
 motto as Lady Olifaunt's. For a long time she gazed at 
 the paper as if she were examining every letter on it, but 
 all the while she was thinking — " Then the bitter moment 
 for poor H61fene has come at last. She already knows all 
 the pangs of jealousy, and she has yet to know all the 
 humiliations of neglect. And it is that abominable Diana 
 who is beginning to instil the poison drop by drop." 
 
 She shuddered as she thought of the abyss into which 
 her friend was in danger of falling. Diana was capable of 
 everything, even of the worst of crimes, to gain her own 
 ends, and there was everything to fear if a struggle com- 
 menced between the two women, for H61fene was one to 
 fight for her own. Emilie came to the conclusion that it 
 would be best to mislead as long as possible the wife's 
 suspicions, and so prevent her discovering the mistress, and 
 to do that it would be needful not to leave her to herself, 
 but to accompany her and try to defeat her plans. 
 
 " I do not know this motto," she said, looking up, " but 
 it might just as well belong to a man as to a woman.'' 
 
 " The writing, the perfume, all is a woman's," inter- 
 rupted H6l^ne, irritated by Mademoiselle Lereboulley's 
 resistance. 
 
 " Very well, then, it is from a woman. She makes an 
 appointment to meet your husband at the Eue de Moscou 
 
WILL. 271 
 
 to -day — I will grant that also. But what do you intend to 
 do ? Wait in the Rue de Moscou t But for what 1 " 
 
 " I shall wait until my husband and this woman come 
 out." 
 
 "And supposing the woman lives in the house, and does 
 not come out 1 " 
 
 " No, if she lived there she would not have put ' Eue de 
 Moscou.' It is only a meeting-place." 
 
 Emilie could not help smiling. 
 
 "That's pretty logically reasoned," she said. "Grief 
 does not muddle your ideas." 
 
 " It heightens all my senses," exclaimed H61fene, ex- 
 citedly, " it increases my strength tenfold. Oh, don't 
 think that I am a woman whose only resource in trouble is 
 her tears, and who is utterly defenceless. I shall fight for 
 myself, for my child, and for my husband's honour. I 
 shall not seek protection from the law ; I do not want 
 either a separation or a divorce. I want my husband who 
 belongs to me, whom I love in spite of his faults, and whom 
 I mean to bring back to my arms. I suffer intensely ^to see 
 him drifting away from me, but I should suffer infinitely 
 more if I lost him for ever; That is why I wish to know 
 all — not to obtain legal proofs, not to discover pretexts for 
 reproach and quarrels, but to find out the woman against 
 whom I shall have to' struggle, and to learn how I may 
 vanquish her !" 
 
 Mademoiselle Lereboulley gazed at her friend with pity- 
 ing tenderness. H6ltee's eyes were full of determination, 
 there was energy in every line of her clever face, and her 
 hands trembled as though impatient for the fight. She so 
 thoroughly personified courage and perseverance that a 
 
272 WILL. 
 
 little hope returned to Emilie's heart. Young, beautiful, 
 strong and earnest, why should not H61fene triumph over 
 the hateful Diana 1 But, alas ! does not vice always come 
 off victorious in this world 1 Did she not know it, she who 
 had seen since her childhood so many women hanging 
 round her father, women who lived on their beauty, who 
 were received everywhere, thanks to their elegance and 
 extravagance, and who forced their way into a society 
 which ought to have refused them admittance, but which, 
 on the contrary, feted and caressed them. A husband, to 
 hide their infamy under his name, a little propriety, for the 
 sake of appearances, and with these concessions to respect- 
 ability they could live the life of courtesans, could ensnare 
 husbands, sons, and brothers, could brave .with their impu- 
 dent smile the forsaken wives, the anxious sisters, the 
 sorrowing mothers, and sow wherever they went anguish, 
 mourning and ruin. 
 
 Could not one call to mind numbers of these adven- 
 turesses who reigned in drawing-rooms, theatres, and 
 watering-places alike, always wearing the handsomest 
 diamonds, always seated in the best boxes, and driving in 
 the best appointed carriages 1 People whispered the names 
 of their protectors to each other, but they were the friends 
 of duchesses, and, by means of the benevolent societies they 
 enriched by their gifts, and the concerts in aid of charities 
 where they sang, they made their way into the highest 
 circles of society, always with a train of lovers in their 
 wake ready to spend money to give them pleasure. And, 
 of all these women of besmirched reputation, was not 
 Diana the most formidable, the most rapacious and the 
 most insolent? And H61^ne proposed to enter the Usts 
 
WILL. 273 
 
 with her with no other weapons but her pride, her courage, 
 and her intelligence, and forsaken by him who ought to have 
 been her protector but who would deliver her up to her 
 enemy and himself reveal the place where she could be 
 mortally wounded. Yet was not her cause just and good 1 
 And, since she resisted instead of meekly submitting, did 
 she not deserve every assistance her friend could render 
 her? 
 
 Before all, Emilie resolved to avoid the shock of a meet- 
 ing between Louis, Diana, and H^lfene. If the appointment 
 was really for that same day, at any cost these three adver- 
 saries must be prevented from encountering each other 
 suddenly in public, or on a general staircase where they 
 would be exposed to the curiosity of passers-by or the in- 
 discretion of servants, and so she decided to accompany 
 Madame H^rault so as to hinder, by every means in her 
 power, a possible scandal. 
 
 H6lfene was excitedly pacing up and down the studio. 
 Mademoiselle LerebouUey rose, and said with a smile, 
 
 "^ You are quite determined to go to the Eue de Moscou 1 
 Very well then. But I shall not let you go alone ; I shall 
 come with you myself. I am sure beforehand that you 
 will not see anyone appear at the trysting-place, but in 
 any case I shall be there to prevent you committing any 
 
 folly." 
 
 For all answer, H6lfene gratefully kissed her friend, and, 
 the maid having brought Emilie her cloak and hat, they 
 went downstairs. 
 
 "You have sent your carriage away? A very wise pre- 
 caution! We will take a cabj it is only half-past one 
 and we have plenty of time." 
 
274 WILL. 
 
 Soon they were being borne towards the Pont de I'Europe 
 at the moderate trot of a broken-down old horse. H61fene, 
 who had formerly lived in the Boulevard des BatignoUes 
 with her mother, was perfectly familiar with the quarterj 
 and, to increase the chances of the success of her ambush, 
 she had decided to station the cab, from which she was 
 going to watch, midway between the two ends of the 
 street; thus she could easily see anyone coming either 
 from the Boulevard or from the Place, and once she had 
 discovered which house was in question she could take up 
 her post opposite it and wait for Louis and his companion 
 to come out. Emilie had no objection to make to this plan 
 of campaign. She allowed H61ene to stop the cab at the 
 spot indicated, and waited in anxious suspense. 
 
 Neither could be recognised under their thick veils as 
 they sat, Madame H6rault with her eyes fixed on the turn- 
 ing into the Boulevard, whence she had a presentiment 
 Louis would arrive, Mademoiselle Lereboulley watching the 
 Place through the little window at the back of the cab. 
 They did not speak, but their laboured breathing betrayed 
 their anxiety. From time to time, H61^ne drew out her 
 watch and looked at the time. It seemed to her as though 
 the hours would never pass. Just as the hands marked a 
 quarter to three, Emilie started — her sharp eyes had just 
 caught sight of Diana, closely veiled and in a plain grey 
 dress, but easily distinguished by her walk, approaching 
 along the pathway at the edge of which their cab was drawn 
 up. She was coming to her appointment in the calm way 
 of a woman perfectly accustomed to such things, and about 
 twenty yards from the cab she turned into a gateway. 
 
 Emilie did not move a muscle. She had promised to 
 
WILL. 275 
 
 tell H61fene directly she noticed anything or anyone sus- 
 picious, but she deliberately failed to keep her word. 
 
 " If Louis comes the same way," she thought, " all is 
 saved for to-day. This evening I shall be able to warn him 
 before his wife can question him, and I will then try to 
 persuade him to alter his conduct." 
 
 An exclamation from H6lfene interrupted this train of 
 thought, and, turning round, Emilie saw her friend leaning as 
 far back in the cab as she could, pointing towards something 
 in front. Mademoiselle Lereboulley looked in the direction 
 of the outstretched finger and saw Louis quietly approach- 
 ing, with a smile on his face and his hands in his overcoat- 
 pockets. He came up to the cab, cast an indifferent glance 
 at the two women sitting within in the semi-darkness, and 
 passed on without suspecting for a moment their identity. 
 
 When he had passed, H616ne, who was trembling from 
 head to foot, leant out of the window, watched him enter 
 the house where Diana had already arrived, and then opened 
 the door to get out of the cab. 
 
 " What are you going to do 1 " asked Emilie, taking hold 
 of her arm. 
 
 " I want to make inquiries, to question, to know." 
 
 " To whom will you address yourself? To the servants? 
 To the door-keeper ? People who may wonder at your agita- 
 tion, be frightened at your appearance and warn your 
 husband. No, that must not be. Leave me to act. I am 
 calm, and I shall find out more than you would and with 
 far less trouble. Wait for me here, I shall not be long." 
 
 " Very well, I will wait for you." 
 
 Emilie got out of the cab, and in her turn entered the 
 house. At the farther end of the court-yard a stable-boy 
 
276 WILL. 
 
 was washing a victoria, while the door-keeper was sitting 
 on a bucket turned upside down, with his broom between 
 his legs, talking to him. Mademoiselle LerebouUey went to 
 his lodge, where she found a little thin, crafty-looking 
 woman — a person exactly suited to a house of the kind. 
 When she heard the door open, the woman came forward. 
 
 " Madame," said Emilie, " I have to ask a little service 
 of you.'' 
 
 And as she spoke she opened a purse formed of golden 
 links, took from it two louis, and laid them on the table. 
 The woman moved her hands as though to protest, but 
 her eyes brightened at the sight of the coins. 
 
 " If it is nothing that can get me into trouble," she 
 answered, " and I can be of any use to you — " 
 
 " You can," returned Emilie. " And make yourself easy, 
 there is no question of vitriol or revolvers. A gentleman 
 has just entered this house where he has some rooms in 
 which he receives a lady or some ladies, I don't exactly 
 know which and I don't care. All you have to do is to send 
 into him at once a little note I am going to write. Yon 
 need not be afraid, he will thank you for it." 
 
 " Will there be any answer 1 " asked the woman. 
 
 " No, madame, I shall give you the note, then I shall go." 
 
 She took out one of her cards and rapidly wrote on it in 
 pencil the following words : 
 
 "Your wife is in a cab at the door waiting to see you 
 come out. Don't let Diana leave here for another hour, 
 but you come out immediately, walk away towards the 
 Place de I'Europe, and come to my house before you go 
 home. — Emilie." 
 
 " Have you an envelope 1 " she asked. 
 
WILL. 277 
 
 The woman looked in a dirty blotting-book and dis- 
 covered an envelope amongst some printed receipts and old 
 papers. Emilie addressed it to " Monsieur Louis," put the 
 card inside it, and giving it to the woman — 
 
 " Here it is, madame. I am very much obliged to you." 
 
 ' It shall be sent in to him at once," said the woman, 
 won over by Emilie's calmness. 
 
 " Good afternoon, madame." 
 
 And she went out to the cab again. 
 
 " Well 1 " asked H61fene. 
 
 " He is not known in the house, it is the first time 
 he has ever been there. Only bachelors and married 
 couples live there, as the landlord won't have single 
 women in his house, so the door-keeper, who seems a very 
 respectable man, told me. Therefore we must ask ourselves 
 if you have not given way to fears for which there was not 
 the slightest cause." 
 
 H616ne looked at her friend and saw that she seemed 
 perfectly reassured. She sighed. What would she not 
 have given to find her fears were only in vain ! But the 
 letter, which bore no signature or address, the motto and 
 the perfume, Louis arriving at the appointed hour 1 Still 
 it was true she had not seen the woman come, so what 
 could the appointment mean? Why had it been arranged 1 
 
 " Let us stay a little longer," she said. 
 
 "As long as you Uke," answered Emilie, sure now of the 
 ending the adventure would have. 
 
 They both remained silent, watching the gateway. In 
 about a quarter of an hour Louis came out quite calmly 
 and strolled away in the direction of the Pont de I'Europe. 
 
 " There's a past-master in hypocrisy ! " thought Emilie. 
 
278 WILL. 
 
 " He looks as innocent as a little saint ! Poor H6I^ne will 
 have all her work to do to checkmate him." , 
 
 Then aloud — 
 
 " Well, dear, our man has departed. It is clear now he 
 did not come to keep a love appointment." 
 
 " Unless you sent him a warning," interrupted H61fene, 
 with a suspicious glance. 
 
 " And how could I have done so ? If he had rooms in 
 this house he would have been sure to take them under an 
 assumed name. How could I, in so short a time, find out 
 that name and send him a message 1 Besides, what reason 
 should I have for deceiving you 1 " 
 
 " You might have done so out of friendship,'' answered 
 H616ne, dubiously shaking her head. " But it would be a 
 poor way of proving your affection, for nothing could be 
 more painful to me than running the risk of living in 
 entire confidence with a man who was false to me. He 
 might laugh at me, and, ridicule being thus added to the 
 other horrors of the situation, I think I should hardly 
 survive the humiliation." 
 
 "Make yourself easy, my dear. When your husband 
 comes in this evening, question him, and he will perhaps 
 give you the explanation of the mystery himself And 
 now I am going to take you home." 
 
 She went to the Faubourg Poissonifere with H61&ae and 
 remained with her until half-past five. At seven o'clock 
 Louis came in to dinner, as usual, and went straight into 
 the drawing-room, without even going first to his own room. 
 He kissed his wife and grandmother, took his seat and 
 gaily asked — 
 
 " Well, what have you been doing with yourselves to-day 1" 
 
WILL. 279 
 
 "I," said old Madame H6rault, "went to the Bon 
 MarcM, to buy some wool to knit vests for my poor 
 people; then I took a turn in the Champs Elys6es, and 
 here I am." 
 
 " And you ? " said H616ne to her husband. " "What have 
 you been doing ? " 
 
 " Well, I have lent ten thousand francs that I never 
 expect to see back again. But it was to a man who was a 
 friend of mine in the old bachelor days. He wrote to me 
 twice, and I took no notice, but at last I gave in, and I 
 took him the money to-day.'' 
 
 " Where to ? " 
 
 "Eue de Moscou," replied Louis indifferently. "Then 
 I went to Saint Denis." 
 
 " Did you have the carriage ? " 
 
 "N"o, I took a, fiacre in the Eue d' Amsterdam to the G-are 
 du Nord. And at last here I am, as grandmother says.'' 
 
 H61ene was struck by the extraordinary precision of her 
 husband's answers; to her they seemed too exact to be 
 true, and she felt there was the ingenuity of guilt betrayed 
 in them. She was sure a trick had been played her and 
 that Louis had received his instructions from Emilie, but 
 into her generous mind there entered no thought of anger. 
 She understood the motives which had guided her friend 
 and forgave her, but she determined to redouble her vigi- 
 lance in order to arrive at a certainty. 
 
 Louis had, in fact, followed Mademoiselle Lereboulley's 
 instructions to the letter. He had gone straight to her 
 house after leaving the Eue de Moscou, and had awaited 
 her for two hours, which to him had seemed centuries. 
 He was impatient to know what his wife had discovered, 
 
280 WILL. 
 
 angry at having been found out, and a little uneasy about 
 the lecture he knew he should receive from Emilie. 
 
 At last Mademoiselle Lereboulley dashed in like a whirl- 
 wind, did not oflfer him her hand, but briefly said, as she 
 passed through the drawing-room — 
 
 " Come up to my studio. There we shall be able to talk 
 more freely." 
 
 He followed her, and, when they were in the large room 
 and the door closed, she took off her hat and cloak, threw 
 them on a couch, and taking up her stand before her friend — 
 
 " Well, yours is pretty conduct ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " There, Emilie," he replied, " scold me as much as yoa 
 like, but first tell me what has happened." 
 
 " It is so very difficult to guess, is it not 1 You leave your 
 letters lying about, your wife finds one, reads it, and, with- 
 out me, she would have caught you with Diana." 
 
 "I don't know how to thank you — " 
 
 " There is no need for you to do so. I have not acted as 
 I have done for your sake, for, to tell the truth, I am 
 simply sick of you. I can't understand a man being such 
 a fool. You have a charming wife who adores you, an 
 angel of a child, a great deal more happiness than you 
 deserve, and you don't hesitate to compromise it all for 
 a worthless woman, who laughs at you behind your 
 back." 
 
 " Emilie ! " exclaimed Louis, angrily. 
 
 " "Why, have you still any illusions with regard to her 
 morality 1 " 
 
 " Do not speak to me of her. Say all you like about me, 
 you will never say anything bad enough, but respect the 
 woman I love.'' 
 
WILL. 281 
 
 " That would be very difficult to do, there is so very- 
 little respectable about her." 
 
 Louis took up his hat and rushed furiously towards the 
 door. Emilie seized him by the arm — 
 
 "-Come, stay here, and don't be a fool. I wiU not say 
 anything more about Lady Olifaunt, if you are so sensitive 
 on the subject. But I have not done with you. I have 
 managed to make your wife believe you are not known in 
 the house where you have your miniature Tour de Nesle. 
 But she will question you, so be ready to tell her a lie 
 which has some appearance of. truth to explain your 
 visit there. For once, there will be some good in your 
 lying." 
 
 " Emilie ! " was all Louis could say, as he sat the picture 
 of embarrassment and vexation. 
 
 " Only, I warn you that H61ene has not meekly accepted 
 the idea of your falseness to her, and you will get into 
 trouble if you continue your pranks. She will defend her- 
 self with every means in her power, and you know you had 
 better take care. People are often carried away in a 
 moment of anger, and she is very pretty. What if she 
 gave you tit for tat, eh ? " 
 
 " She is incapable of such a thing, she is too highly 
 principled a woman." 
 
 " And so you are .quite easy on the point ? " returned 
 Emilie, with scathing irony. " What pitiful wretches you 
 and men like you are ! And how much more your wives 
 would be considered by you if they were only less (faithful 
 to their duty ! ' She is highly principled, and so I can 
 torture her with impunity. She will suffer, she will weep, 
 but she will not avenge herself : she is virtuous ! ' And 
 
282 WILL. 
 
 SO you, strong in this security, go on your way without 
 a second thought, while your poor wife stays at home to 
 nourish and bring up her child. The revelation of her mis- 
 fortune may so act upon her mind as to kill her, and, through 
 her, the child, but what does that matter 'i You must have 
 your amusement ! What cowardly behaviour yours is !" 
 
 " You exaggerate, and are a little too theatrical," an- 
 swered Louis, with a constrained smile. " I will not try 
 to excuse myself, but if my wife had been a little more my 
 wife and rather less the mother of her son, perhaps all this 
 would never have happened." 
 
 " That's enough ! " cried Emilie, white with rage. " It 
 only needed that to make you complete. You are turning 
 H616ne's very goodness into a crime, you are reproaching 
 her for what ought to make her sacred in your eyes. Don't 
 say another word, but go ! I used to look upon you as my 
 friend, I do so no longer. But, before you go, listen to one 
 last word of advice — if you have no consideration for your 
 wife, if you disregard Sir James Olifaunt, and you are wrong 
 in doing so, don't set Mousieur Lereboulley at naught. He 
 clings very tightly to his Diana, he would not sacrifice her 
 even for me, and he will not let you deprive him of her 
 without a struggle, so beware ! " 
 
 And as Louis contemptuously shrugged his shoulders — 
 
 " Oh, he will not seek a quarrel with you. He will not 
 try to attack you, sword or pistol in hand — he has better 
 weapons than those. He will simply ruin you financially. 
 Forewarrned is forearmed. Now, you can go." 
 
 She turned her back on him, but he went up to her 
 more agitated than he wished to show, and holding out his 
 hand to her — 
 
WILL. 283 
 
 " I thank you again for what you have done for H616no 
 and for me. But do not let me leave you thus. My affection 
 for you is of such long standing ; you are the only person I 
 really like besides my grandmother, my wife, and my child. 
 You have hurt me very much, but I bear you no grudge. 
 I am guilty, I know, but what good will it do you to over- 
 whelm jne with reproaches ? Pity me, it will be better, and 
 perhaps more efficacious.'' 
 
 She looked at him, and saw that his eyes were full of tears. 
 
 " What poison does this creature instil into you all," she 
 exclaimed, stamping her foot, " to thus infatuate you one 
 after another? And you, you are nothing but a child, 
 utterly helpless ! Come, try at least to be a little more 
 sensible ! " 
 
 " I promise you I will." 
 
 " The promise of an opium-eater," she answered, with a 
 sad smile. " There, go along ! They will be anxious about 
 you if you are late to-day." 
 
 He seized her almost violently by the shoulders and 
 kissed her, then, all his melancholy apparently fled, said — 
 
 "You are a very good-hearted girl." 
 
 " And you, a scoundrel ! " 
 
 " Adieu," and he left the studio. 
 
 For some time after he had gone Emilie sat thinking. 
 The advice she had given to Louis she had given seriously, 
 for she knew her father's anger would be terrible when he 
 found out how he was being deceived. Concerned as he 
 was in all the business connected with H6rault's firm and 
 as Louis was in all the senator's transactions, nothing could 
 be easier than for the latter to ruin the young man. With 
 the important financial means at his command, Lereboulley 
 
284 WILL. 
 
 could wreck or float a speculation as he chose, and under the 
 influence of his resentment, he would at once conceive the 
 idea of wounding his rival through his fortune, well aware 
 that that would be the surest way of wresting Diana from 
 him. Emilie knew LerebouUey's unconquerable passion 
 for his mistress ; Lady Olifaunt had made herself simply 
 indispensable to him. 
 
 Then, besides this danger to which Louis was exposed, 
 there was another to which Mademoiselle Lereboulley had 
 hardly alluded, viz., the risk he ran from Thauziat's love. As 
 he saw the husband gradually living more and more apart 
 from his wife, Cl6ment, unless he possessed a superhuman 
 generosity, would attempt to profit by the separation, and, 
 though there could be no question of H6lene's chastity, 
 Thauziat was so extremely fascinating. Thus Emilie saw 
 her friends' safety threatened on every side, simply through 
 Louis' fault, and she determined to do all in her power to 
 aid them to steer their bark amid the rocks without disaster. 
 
 If Madame H6rault had continued to stay at home, as 
 she had done since the beginning of winter, the chances of 
 misfortune would have been considerably diminished. But 
 the young wife changed her tactics, and declared that 
 henceforth she would go into society with her husband. 
 Thus, she was inevitably bound to meet Lady Olifaunt, 
 and the result must be an implacable fight between the two 
 women. It was impossible that those interested in the 
 combat, amongst whom Lereboulley was in the foremost 
 rank, should not hear the whizzing of the arrows in their 
 flight from one side to the other, and, unless they were 
 voluntarily deaf and blind, they must understand what was 
 going on, and therefore all was to be feared. 
 
WILL. 285 
 
 Louis did not receive the announcement of his wife's 
 resolution very enthusiastically. He had become too well 
 accustomed to his return to bachelor habits not to wish to 
 prolong the duration of them, but the objections he raised 
 were at once firmly put aside by H6lfene. 
 
 " My little Pierre can do without me in the evening 
 now," she said ; " and I don't see why I should shut 
 myself up in the house. I think I deserve some pleasure, 
 and I mean to amuse myself a' little ; it will be a change 
 for me." 
 
 And she began to frequent parties, balls, and theatres, and 
 to receive at her own home ; in fact, she resumed the life 
 she had led immediately after her marriage. One could feel 
 she was making every effort to attract, and she succeeded 
 admirably. Her somewhat stern beauty had become softer 
 and was now irresistible, and she had a circle of flattering, 
 attentive admirers to whom she showed that she was 
 even richer in wit and intellectual grace than in physical 
 charm. 
 
 Thauziat, with his calm prid«, did not join the ranks of 
 courtiers and flatterers, but there was a certain something 
 in the way he saluted H6lene, or spoke to her, or walked 
 with her which assured her supremacy in society. Yet 
 there was nothing either in C16ment's words or in his atti- 
 tude towards her which could by any possibility com- 
 promise her in the smallest degree, for he testified towards 
 her a respect he had never shown for any other woman. 
 There could be no doubt that he was in love with her, but 
 he himself so well affected not to cherish the least hope that 
 Madame H^rault's virtue was regarded as impregnable. 
 
 And she herself passed through the crowd, listening to 
 
286 WILL. 
 
 gallant propositions, replying with a smile, easy, free, 
 apparently perfectly indifferent but in reality continually 
 on the watch. Never did she lose sight of her husband, 
 and not one of his movements escaped her. And this chase 
 in Parisian drawing-rooms with a betraying husband as the 
 quarry, possessed a bitter but irresistible attraction for a 
 keen observer as was EmUie. Strangely enough, since 
 H616ne had again entered society, Diana and she were 
 never to be met in the same house. It seemed almost as if 
 the beautiful Englishwoman were always told beforehand 
 by a secret friend of all Madame H6rault's engagements for 
 the evening. 
 
 Louis, always affable and good-tempered, took his wife 
 wherever she chose to go, and behaved so like a model 
 husband that H616ne, in spite of her tenacious tempera- 
 ment, began to weary and to doubt her own convictions, 
 when an unexpected incident suddenly gave her the clue 
 she was so eagerly seeking. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 Every year, LerebouUey, although he hated music, gave 
 two or three concerts in the splendid drawing-rooms of his 
 mansion to please his daughter, who, a very clever musician 
 and a fanatic admirer of Wagner, had done much to acclima- 
 tise the German master's dramatic compositions in Parisian 
 society. Having made her friends listen to as much of the 
 beautiful but severe music as French frivolity could be 
 reasonably expected to accept, she now confined herself to 
 patronising young musicians who could not force their way 
 into public notice although their talent was undoubted. 
 The execution of these unpublished works was confided to 
 a specially-chosen orchestra, while the best singers of the day 
 undertook the interpretation of the vocal scores, and these 
 unique gatherings always attracted an enormous crowd. 
 
 The first concert that year was to be devoted to the 
 hearing of fragments from Manfred, an opera by Andr6 
 Wordier, the composer of a charming berceuse which Lady 
 OUfaunt had frequently sung during the winter with great 
 success. Aware of the interest Diana took in Wordier, 
 Madame H^rault felt sure that this time she would be 
 fortunate enough to meet her, but she was very nearly 
 again disappointed. 
 
 Little Pierre, who was generally nothing but merriment 
 and laughter, on the morning of the concert woke up dull 
 and peevish. His mother felt very uneasy about him, and 
 
288 WILL. 
 
 sent for the doctor, who said there was not the slightest 
 cause for fear, that the child was a little feverish owing to 
 his teeth, which were just beginning to show through the 
 pink gums, and that was all. But H6lfene, in spite of his 
 assurances, countermanded her order for the hairdresser, 
 and seemed decided not to go to the LerebouUeys'. About 
 eight o'clock, however, the child fell into a calm sleep, and 
 the young wife, altering her decision and becoming as 
 confident as she had before been frightened, ordered her 
 toilette to be put ready, telling her husband her hair would 
 be very well dressed by her maid. Louis timidly attempted 
 to oppose this second decision, but he was soon dis- 
 heartened by H61^ne's quiet obstinacy, and resigned 
 himself with a sigh. 
 
 It was eleven o'clock when they reached the Lereboulley 
 mansion. The first part of the concert had commenced, 
 and Talazac and Mademoiselle Isaac were singing an 
 exquisite nocturne. Emilie, who was sitting in the small 
 drawing-room, rose with a look of surprise when she saw 
 Monsieur and Madame H6rault, and advanced to meet 
 them. 
 
 " My little boy is better, and, as I felt quite reassured, I 
 insisted on coming," said H61fene. 
 
 With a glance Emilie pointed out to Louis Lady Olifaunt 
 sitting in the first row of seats. At the same moment 
 H^lfene perceived the Englishwoman and turned pale as 
 she saw how radiantly beautiful she was. Her skin looked 
 dazzlingly white against the sulphur-coloured tulle dress 
 she was wearing, the train of which was trimmed with the 
 yellow-hued roses called B^ve d'or, and the bodice cut very 
 low to display her superb figure and alabaster back; 
 
WILL. 289 
 
 diamonds sparkled in her fair hair, and her hand was 
 slowly swaying to and fro a feather fan mounted in 
 tortoise-shell. 
 
 Attracted as by a magnetic influence, Diana's eyes turned 
 towards the H6raults, and meeting H61fene's, the two women 
 exchanged a long look. Diana smiled and waved a graceful 
 greeting with her fan, Madame H6rault gravely bowed her 
 head. At last she had met the woman she suspected. At 
 last she was going to see her and Louis together, to watch 
 them both and seek to discover their secret from the 
 intonations of their voices and the expression of their faces 
 
 But in this she was reckoning without Emilie, who skil- 
 fully contrived to draw her towards a group of ladies, in the 
 midst of which she intended to enclose her as in a citadel. 
 
 LerebouUey, having shaken hands with H6rault, came 
 up to speak to Hdlfene, and Louis seized the opportunity to 
 hide himself amongst the crowd of men who, bored and 
 solemn as mutes, stopped up every doorway, stifling every 
 now and then a yawn, and standing as far out of earshot 
 of the music as possible. 
 
 He had met Thauziat and Sir James, but had left them, 
 after a minute's conversation, to reach by means of skilful 
 tacking and manoeuvring, a place whence he could admire 
 Diana without being seen by H61fene, and taste the secret 
 pleasure of thinking he was the lover of this woman whose 
 beauty excited such universal admiration. He heard every 
 one around him murmuring her praises, and waves of fire 
 seemed to rush from his heart to his brain. 
 
 Diana herself was listening with an air of innocent 
 delight to the singing, which she rapturously applauded, 
 and, apparently indifferent to all that was not the work of 
 
290 WILL. 
 
 her favourite Wordier, looked absorbed in a state of 
 delightful beatitude. 
 
 Yet she was very well aware of what was going on 
 around her, and had managed to turn her head to look 
 at Louis. She carelessly placed her fan to her lips to 
 send him a kiss, and then, having paid this tribute to her 
 love, again gave herself up to the pleasure of listening to 
 the music. She felt that H61fene was watching her. She 
 seemed to feel the weight of the young wife's gaze upon 
 her, and she resolved to find her husband during the first 
 interval, and, under pretence of a headache, beat a prudent 
 retreat before the enemy, for she was most anxious to avoid 
 any scandal. 
 
 So as the last notes of a finale died away amidst general 
 applause, she rose from her seat and beckoned to Thauziat. 
 
 "I do not feel very well," she said, taking his arm. 
 " Will you take me into the little drawing-room reserved 
 for the artistes, as I should like to compliment Wordier 
 before I go ? " 
 
 " Is Madame H6rault's presence the source of annoy- 
 ance 1 " asked Thauziat, sarcastically. 
 
 " Perhaps," replied Diana, with a meaning look. " Com- 
 parison with her is very difficult to bear. She is really 
 splendid, and her husband is very stupid to deceive her. 
 But husbands always are stupid ! " 
 
 " With the exception of Sir James." 
 
 " Oh, he is someone aside." 
 
 " You might almost say with two sides." 
 
 "You are very witty this evening, Thauziat. If you 
 said such sharp things to Madame H6rault you would 
 increase your chances with her." 
 
WILL. 291 
 
 " There, don't be angry, Diana, I was only joking." 
 
 " I am not angry. You know that I permit everything 
 to you.'' 
 
 They had reached the dining-room, changed for the time 
 being into a refreshment-room, which was filled with 
 couples, some of whom were striving to get near the high 
 table covered with a magnificent service in chased silver, 
 while others were talking as they ate and drank standing 
 up, waited on by the impassive servants. 
 
 " Do try to get me a bunch of grapes and a glass of iced 
 champagne," said Diana to her companion. 
 
 Clement soon returned with a bunch of transparent, 
 golden grapes upon a plate of silver-gilt. 
 
 " These are some of the lovely white grapes we used to 
 admire in the vinery at Evreux," said Lady Olifaunt. 
 " They are really exquisite. Last year Lereboulley sent 
 me a vine on which his gardener had grafted a rose branch, 
 so that it bore grapes and roses at the same time. Lere- 
 boulley certainly knows how to do things," she added, 
 looking round to see if she could catch sight of Louis, but 
 the- young man was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 She took the glass of champagne Thauziat was holding 
 for her — 
 
 " I drink to the success of your love, Cl6ment," she said. 
 
 She drank the wine in little sips, with her pretty neck, 
 which swelled like a dove's, thrown slightly back. Then, 
 again taking Thauziat's arm, she moved towards a little 
 drawing-room which opened into the senator's study. The 
 room was nearly empty, and they were about to pass 
 through it, when Madame H6rault appeared at the oppo- 
 site door on Lereboulley's arm, Emilie following behind. 
 
292 WILL. 
 
 Diana pressed Thauziat's arm and glanced around her, but 
 it was too late to retreat, and the encounter, which so many 
 friends had tried to prevent, was bound to take place. 
 
 The beautiful Englishwoman put on her most smiling 
 look, and, with her azure eyes fixed on H6lfene's face, 
 moved calmly forward as if she were the most saintly 
 of women. And yet, bold as she was, she felt an unaccus- 
 tomed emotion, for she was afraid as she stood face to face 
 with Madame H6rault ; she realised that her antagonist 
 was her superior, and she tried to hide the heaving of 
 her bosom by gracefully fanning herself. 
 
 Emilie had tried to draw H6lfene and her father towards 
 the concert-room, but it was no longer LerebouUey who 
 was guiding Madame H^rault's steps, it was she who was 
 forcing him to go whither she wished. She had seen 
 Diana, and she advanced upon her as upon an enemy. 
 Lady Olifaunt paused, she did not wish it to appear as 
 though she fled, and, making the first bow, boldly com- 
 menced the attack : 
 
 " I have not had the pleasure of meeting you, madame, 
 since I saw you sitting for a madonna in the little church 
 near Evreux. How is your dear little boy i " 
 
 H616ne listened to the sweet voice, to which the very 
 slightest foreign accent lent an additional charm, and could 
 distinguish no false ring to mar the music of its harmony. 
 Then she studied Diana's bearing, but could find nothing 
 in it to betray the smallest embarrassment. Could she 
 have been mistaken, and must she seek elsewhere her 
 detested and unknown rival ? 
 
 " You are a fortunate mother, madame," continued Lady 
 Olifaunt, " and other women may well envy you.'' 
 
WILL. 293 
 
 She might haVe gone on talking like that for ever, 
 H616ne was no longer listening to her. Her attention had 
 just been drawn to the yellow feather fan Diana was 
 waving to and fro before her, and on one of the tortoise-shell 
 sticks of which she saw the sparkle of some diamond letters 
 which formed two or three words she was unable to make 
 out. It was a motto, no doubt, but which one 1 An inward 
 voice told her it was the same as she had read on the square, 
 white card. Then a mist swam before her eyes, there 
 was a confused ringing in her ears, and the blood rushed 
 to her head. Making a violent effort to keep up, she 
 seized Emilie's arm and convulsively clasped it, and then 
 turning very pale, addressed Lady Olifaunt : 
 
 " That is a lovely fan of yours, madame 1 Will you 
 allow me to see it closer ? " 
 
 Diana held out to her the fan which was fastened to her 
 waistband by a straw-coloured silken tjord. H616ne took it 
 in her hands, and, with passionate eagerness, read on it 
 the words : " / love a/nd I hate." A deadly chill passed 
 over her as she recognised again in English the device she 
 had seen in Latin. Then it was this clever, wicked, 
 golden-haired woman who was her rival ! She was suddenly 
 filled with a mad hatred for her, she longed to tear out 
 those limpid eyes, to dig her nails into those voluptuous 
 lips on which Louis' had been laid, to throw down and 
 trample upon this dimpled form which had robbed her of 
 the caresses of the man she loved. She was still mechani- 
 cally holding the fan in her clenched hands, and again she 
 read, this time aloud, in a dull and choking voice, 
 
 " I love and I hate." 
 
 "That means in French, ' J'aime etje hais,'" said Diana. 
 
294 WILL. 
 
 " But like all mottoes it expresses more than the truth. I 
 am neither so very affectionate nor so very malicious." 
 
 " Amo et odi," went on H6lfene. " Does not that mean 
 the same." 
 
 " Exactly," answered Lereboulley. 
 
 Diana stepped back with a presentiment of danger, but 
 Madame H6rault followed her up. 
 
 " Women who carry on intrigues ought never to write, 
 so they say," she said with withering contempt. " Yet it 
 was on paper bearing a device so characteristic as this one 
 that you fixed an appointment with my husband." 
 
 Lady Olifaunt turned ghastly pale, and snatching her 
 fan from H61fene's hands, she uttered a low cry and went 
 over to Lereboulley who had been looking on in speechless 
 amazement. 
 
 " Madame," exclaimed this latter, placing himself be- 
 tween the two women, "are you sufficiently guarded in 
 your words t " 
 
 "I am more guarded in my words than has been this 
 creature in her actions ! A moment ago she had the 
 audacity to speak to me of my child, knowing she was the 
 mistress of its father ! " 
 
 " Will you allow me to be thus insulted beneath your 
 roof?" exclaimed the beautiful Englishwoman to Lere- 
 boulley. 
 
 And as the latter stood petrified with astonishment, 
 
 " Arouse yourself and defend me," she cried. 
 
 She was furious with rage as she stood with clenched 
 hands, returned in an instant to the barmaid that Thauziat 
 had raised from the gutter. H61fene, cold and haughty, 
 gazed at her in silence. All her anger had vanished, and 
 
WILL. 295 
 
 she now felt nothing but an immense grief. It seemed to her 
 as if her joy, her pride, her modesty had all been swallowed 
 up in the chasm which had suddenly opened within her 
 heart. She felt a deep and bitter disgust for this place 
 and for this woman, she longed for sOence and solitude, 
 she wished to go home and be beside her child, and 
 turning to Thauziat who had silently assisted at the scene — 
 
 " May I ask you to take me to my husband 1 " she 
 said. 
 
 She took his arm, bowed to Lereboulley, and went out 
 with Emilie, without bestowing even a parting glance upon 
 her rival. 
 
 H61fene had hardly left the room before Lereboulley re- 
 covered himself. 
 
 " Diana, if what Madame H^rault has said is true, woe 
 to you and to Louis also ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " She is mad ! Are you going to put any faith in the 
 utterances of a jealous woman? Do you think I under- 
 stand a word of all she has been saying ? Her husband 
 tried to make love to me before he was married — you know 
 very weU how persistent he was — and perhaps she has 
 found a note from me when she was turning out some of 
 his drawers. But ought she to come to the conclusion that 
 I am leading that fool H6rault astray ? Because I am 
 attractive and admired, because their husbands run after 
 me, all these women envy and detest me ! But how can I 
 help it ? I do nothing to gain attention. It is most 
 horrid and abominable ! And the most cruel blow of all 
 was to find you abandoned me to the anger of that insolent 
 woman ; all you did was to mumble a few useless words. 
 But there, you cannot love me, for when a man loves a 
 
296 WILL. 
 
 woman he respects her himself and makes others do the 
 same ! " 
 
 "Diana!" 
 
 She burst into tears, and LerebouUey, at his wits' end, 
 and fearing each moment to see someone come in, attempted 
 to soothe her. 
 
 " There, there, Diana, you don't mean what you say. I, 
 not love you ! Come, pull yourself together, someone 
 might come, and if you were found alone with me, and in 
 tears, what would be thought ? Let me beg of you to 
 come into my study. There, there wUl be no fear of being 
 disturbed." 
 
 She consented to foUow him, then dropped on a couch 
 with the grace of a young nymph who knows a satyr is 
 observing her. The senator paced up and down, regardless 
 of the concert which was going on, indifferent to all the 
 people with which his drawing-rooms were filled, absorbed 
 by the fear of a misfortune. 
 
 " Oh, if I believed that that Louis—" 
 
 " You are not yet convinced of my innocence ! WeU, 
 then, what should you do if I suddenly said to you : ' I 
 hate telling lies ! You want to know if Louis H^rault is 
 my lover 1 Yes, then, he is ! ' " 
 
 " Diana, do not jest upon such a matter. It would be a 
 terrible affair if you did deceive me. I would recoil before 
 nothing to avenge myself" 
 
 " Would you do me any harm 1 " 
 
 « Perhaps." 
 
 " I should like to see you ! " exclaimed Lady Olifaunt, 
 darting so ardent a glance at LerebouUey that he forgot 
 his rage and suspicions, and could find nothing in his heart 
 
WILL. 297 
 
 but an intense desire, and on his lips nothing but enamoured 
 words. 
 
 "Diana, how beautiful you are! A man might well 
 commit a crime to call you his ! " 
 
 " And what would he do to keep me ? " 
 
 "Only command. All that you wish shall be accom- 
 plished." 
 
 "Very well, we will see," she answered, coldly. "In 
 the meantime, give me your arm, our absence may be 
 remarked upon." She smiled, as she nestled against her 
 elderly adorer. " It would not need more to lead to the 
 belief that there is something- between us." 
 
 He threw his arms around her, and, bending his smooth, 
 bronzed face over Diana's white shoulders, caressed them 
 with his thick lips. She gave him a little tap on the 
 cheek, and freeing herself — 
 
 " Come, LerebouUey, change the current of your 
 thoughts." 
 
 He sighed, and a moment after had returned to the 
 drawing-room with Lady Olifaunt on his arm. 
 
 Every trace of emotion was already effaced from Diana's 
 face, and she had regained all her laughing airs and modest 
 graces as quickly as a mask, as easily resumed as laid 
 aside. 
 
 But if Lady Olifaunt had supported the trying episode 
 unmoved, it was not so with H616ne. When she had left 
 the LerebouUeys' with her husband, the latter being in 
 perfect ignorance of the scene which had just taken place, 
 Madame H6rault felt the terrible reaction of all her emotion. 
 As she lay back in the corner of the brougham, her head 
 covered by a lace scarf, she trembled violently. Her teeth 
 
298 WILL. 
 
 were clenched, there seemed a burning fire within her 
 breast, the jolting of the carriage caused an intensely 
 painful throbbing in her head, and every now and then a 
 bright light flashed before her eyes. The quarter of an 
 hour's drive home seemed interminable to her. 
 
 Louis, unable to understand his wife's silence, looked 
 anxiously towards her from time to time, and at last asked^ — 
 
 " Do you not feel well ? Is there anything the matter 
 with you ? " 
 
 With an eflfort she opened her mouth, and replied, in 
 stifled tones — 
 
 " No, nothing." 
 
 The carriage drew up at the steps of the mansion, and, 
 getting out, she staggered a few steps forward, then was 
 obliged to lean for support against the brass rod of the 
 awning. Louis, startled by her condition, lifted her in 
 his arms and carried her straight in and upstairs, until 
 they reached the first landing, when she managed to walk 
 to her room. 
 
 When she was seated by the fire without her wraps, 
 Louis saw that she was pale and shivering, that her eyes 
 were heavy and her hands listless. 
 
 " Good heavens, what is the matter 1 " he cried, anxiously. 
 " H616ne, tell me, are you in pain ? " 
 
 " Yes— a little—" 
 
 " But when and how did this begin? Do you feel cold ? " 
 
 " Yes, very cold — all round my heart." 
 
 He stretched out his hand to ring, but she stopped him 
 by a gesture. 
 
 " No, do not rouse the servants. Call no one but your 
 grandmother." 
 
WILL. 299 
 
 He hurried away, and within a few minutes old Madame 
 Hferault was beside her. Louis quietly left the room, and 
 then the old lady helped H61fene to undress and go to bed. 
 When she had drawn the covering well over her, she saw 
 how she shivered, although her face was crimson, and she 
 prepared a steaming beverage, going from the bed to the 
 dressing-room with slow and tiny steps, but seeing to every- 
 thing. She went into the child's room, leant over his 
 cradle to watch his quiet sleep, then returned to H61fene to 
 say: 
 
 " Do not worry about little Pierre, he is fast asleep. If 
 he should wake, I will give him some warm milk and he 
 will be all right." 
 
 " Thank you so much for your kindness," whispered the 
 young mother, with a wan, sad smile. 
 
 At this moment Louis re-entered the room to say he 
 would sit up with his wife, but his grandmother seemed to 
 guess H6l^ne's wishes, and protested that her grandson's 
 presence would not be of the slightest use, and that she 
 herself could do all that was needful. 
 
 "You go to bed, my dear," she said, "and I will stay 
 here. Old people don't require so much sleep as young 
 ones." 
 
 Then, as Louis persisted, she added ; 
 
 " Your wife would prefer it so." 
 
 He went to the bedside, and touched H6lene's arm, 
 which was burning hot, then, with a heavy heart, he kissed 
 her gently on the forehead. There was a question on his 
 lips he dared not utter, but he guessed that Diana was in 
 some way the cause of H6lfene's illness. The obstinate silence 
 with which all his inquiries had been met, the desire for 
 
300 WILL. 
 
 his absence and for the presence of old Madame H6rault 
 alone, all told that some grave incident had happened 
 which would materially alter the situation. 
 
 The next morning, as H61fene felt no better, Louis sent 
 for Eameau de Ferri^res. His wife's sufferings were still 
 further increased by a mental anxiety — she feared she 
 would no longer be able to nourish her child. Was she to 
 be deprived of this supreme consolation in her distress? 
 Would she be compelled to abandon her rosy, golden- 
 haired baby to the care of a stranger 1 Again and again did 
 these torturing thoughts haunt her brain during the hours 
 of restless, feverish sleeplessness. She had lost the father, 
 was she also going to lose the child ? About three o'clock 
 in the morning she had been slightly delirious, and had 
 said aloud — 
 
 " If they give my little Pierre to that wicked woman he 
 will die." 
 
 Old Madame H6rault had quietly risen from her arm- 
 chair by the fire, where she was busying her fingers with 
 her eternal knitting, had leant over H61fene, and, laying her 
 hand on the burning forehead, had replied in soothing 
 tones : 
 
 " Be easy, my child. If you are ill, I will look after the 
 child myself. He shall not be confided to a stranger's care." 
 
 H61fene sighed, and her eyes shone in the shadow of the 
 curtains. Then she sighed, muttered some incoherent 
 words, and fell asleep. 
 
 When she again awoke it was broad daylight, and the 
 clever physician, who had just arrived, was talking to Louis 
 in the next room. He came in, shaking back his hair, 
 which was like a lion's mane, and approaching the bed — 
 
WILL. 301 
 
 " Well, my dear madame, are you so foolish as to stand 
 in need of me ? Let us see what is the matter." 
 
 He felt her pulse, looked at her eyes, took the temperature 
 of her body with a thermometer, then turning to Louis— 
 
 "It is nothing serious, but the temperature is a great 
 deal too high." 
 
 But when he had drawn H6rault into a corner he said 
 gravely — 
 
 " She has had the narrowest escape of brain fever. There 
 is bilateral contraction of the organ, and she will need the 
 greatest care." 
 
 Then seeing that H61fene was anxiously watching him, he 
 returned to her. 
 
 " Now, I should like to see my patient's little one." 
 
 Little Pierre was brought in laughing and looking the 
 picture of health. The doctor took him in his arms, felt 
 his firm limbs, kissed him, then said, in reply to H61tee's 
 anxious questioning glance — 
 
 " Well, we must wean the little rogue. It is rather soon, 
 perhaps, but he is quite strong enough to bear the change, 
 and I would rather put him upon cow's milk than change 
 his nurse. Are you satisfied with that arrangement, 
 madame V 
 
 Hdlfene feebly moved her head, and two tears dropped on 
 the cambric pillow-case. 
 
 " We must not fatigue her," said Eameau to Louis. " If 
 you wiU take me to your study, I will write out a pre- 
 scription." 
 
 They went out together, and as soon as the door had 
 closed behind them, old Madame H6rault, without asking 
 anybody's aid or advice, wheeled Pierre's cradle into his 
 mother's bedroom, and put it near the window so that 
 
302 WILL. 
 
 H^lfene could see it from her bed. The young wife ex- 
 changed a look with the old grandmother in which her 
 whole soul shone forth. Then she would have spoken, but 
 the other put her finger to her lips, resumed her seat, and 
 went on with her quiet work. 
 
 Louis did not leave the house, and from time to time 
 came to ask news of the invalid. He had brought with 
 him Emilie, who had called early in the morning and who 
 was received by H^lfene with delight, and under the care of 
 her two nurses — her grandmother and her friend — Madame 
 H6rault seemed to revive. But, towards evening, the 
 feverish symptoms returned, and all seemed to threaten 
 that the night would be a bad one. Rameau prescribed 
 some soothing drugs, and gave the patient a draught to 
 make her sleep, but he felt no anxiety about the case, for 
 he knew that H616ne's vigorous constitution was capable of 
 resisting a great deal of suffering. 
 
 Emilie determined to stay at the H6raults' to relieve old 
 Madame H6rault in her watch by H61fene's bedside, and she 
 dined alone with Louis, who had been spending his time 
 wandering through the empty rooms, tortured by all kinds 
 of anxious thoughts. He had not wished to go to Lady 
 Olifaunt's house, and he had received no letter from her, 
 and between his wife, who was lying ill, and his mistress, 
 who gave no sign of her existence, he was in a sombre fury 
 with himself and everyone else as well. He told himself 
 he was a scoundrel for thinking of Diana almost in H6l6ne's 
 presence, and yet he could not tear the image of the 
 beautiful Englishwoman from his heart, and constantly 
 she was before his eyes, calling him with her sweet voice, 
 inviting him with her radiant beauty. Emilie's arrival was 
 
WILL. 303 
 
 an immense relief to him — first, because she could tell him 
 what had really passed between the two women, secondly, 
 because he could talk to her of Diana, and that was a 
 happiness to him, even if he only opened his lips to curse 
 the golden-haired beauty, and to swear he would never see 
 her again. 
 
 He was, in the little boudoir which preceded Hdl^ne's 
 bed-room in the evening, talking to Emilie, giving vent to 
 bitter words, and cursing the day he had yielded to the 
 charms of the lovely but dangerous enchantress. 
 
 " For she is really dangerous," he said, " with her 
 audacity and her treachery. I know her well ; she is 
 wickedness itself" 
 
 "I believe that is why you men like her so much," 
 answered Emilie. " She is a change after your sisters and 
 your wives, who are simple, innocent, and good. But sim- 
 plicity, innocence, and virtue — a housewife's qualities — are 
 not amusing, and you run after women who are not re- 
 strained by any regard for their reputation." 
 
 " She is perfectly heartless," continued Louis furiously ; 
 "she is cold and cruel. She knows the anxiety I have 
 been in ever since this morning, and that, after yesterday 
 evening's scandal, I would give worlds to know what she 
 is doing, and what she thinks of the situation ; but what 
 does she care 'i I daresay she has never even bestowed one 
 thought upon me, although I have sacrificed the best and 
 most charming of wives to her. No, she is laughing and 
 enjoying herself ! She is the most atrociously ungrateful 
 woman on the face of the earth ! I don't expect she will 
 write me one line." 
 
 " And she is wise in not doing so, for that is how she 
 
304 WILL. 
 
 keeps you all. If she did not treat you like dogs she could 
 do nothing with you, so she goes on the system of a wild- 
 beast tamer — she rules you with a bar of red-hot iron, and 
 reduces you to obedience by enforcing abstinence. You 
 accuse her of being cruel and ungrateful; and are you 
 yourself neither cruel nor ungrateful ? The torture Lady 
 Olifaunt is inflicting upon you is but a slight revenge for 
 H61^ne's suffering. Diana is a manifestation of the justice 
 of Providence — for you, she stands in the place of ex- 
 piation. And we are speaking of her as she is now, young 
 and pretty. Unquestionably, she is very fascinating, and in 
 the opinion of the world you can plead extenuating circum- 
 stances, but imagine Diana old and ugly. There are men 
 who do still cling to their old Dianas, and you may very 
 possibly become one of them. If you wear out your wife's 
 patience, she wiU separate from you, and then you will 
 remain chained to your Englishwoman, and will pass 
 your days drinking port and playing b6zique with Sir 
 James ! Are you enchanted with the prospect ? No 1 
 Then show that you are not a fool. Give up your sweet- 
 heart, who is, I would swear, the sweetheart of a good many 
 others besides yourself, and become once more an honest 
 man." 
 
 " I will, as sure as there is a God above ! " cried Louis 
 excitedly. 
 
 " Do not swear it, Louis, it is a bad sign — simply do it. 
 But a letter will come to-morrow morning, and then good- 
 bye to all your good resolutions." 
 
 With that she left him alone in the boudoir, and went to 
 take Madame H6rault's place beside the invalid. 
 
 H616ne passed the first part of the night tolerably quietly^, 
 
WILL. 306 
 
 but about two o'clock, Emilie, who had fallen asleep on the 
 couch, was aroused by the sound of talking. She rose and 
 in the semi-darkness of the room, saw H6lfene leaning her 
 elbow on the pillow, talking to herself, while her eyes were 
 fixed and vacant. When Mademoiselle Lereboulley went 
 to her and took her hand, she seemed to recognise her, and 
 pursuing the idea which was troubling her — 
 
 " If I died, he would force that woman to leave her hus- 
 band, and he would marry her. She would take my place 
 in the house, she would occupy my chamber, and my child 
 would be hers. How she looked at him in the church, as 
 if she would have liked to steal him from me ! All which 
 belongs to me would be hers, and of me would be left not 
 even a memory — a poor little name engraved upon a 
 stone, and that would be all." 
 
 Her head moved restlessly from side to side, and drops 
 of perspiration stood out upon her forehead. Emilie leant 
 over her, placed her cool hands upon the heated brow 
 to instil some of her own calm reason into the weary, 
 wandering brain, and gently said — 
 
 " You are in no danger, H616ne, and you will live to be 
 happy." 
 
 "I shall live; yes, I shall live," returned the other 
 eagerly. " I will live to defend those I love ! " 
 
 Several times she repeated "I will live," as if in the 
 confusion of her thoughts this word of determination, 
 which summed up her whole character, was the only one 
 which presented itself clearly to her mind. Then, under 
 Emilie's pitying, sympathetic glance, her eyelids gradually 
 closed, and when Eameau paid his visit the next morning he 
 found her calmer, less feverish, and on a fair way to recovery. 
 
 u 
 
306 WILL. 
 
 Louis also less seemed agitated and nervous. He re- 
 mained in his wife's room for a few minutes, giving many- 
 little tokens of his affection for her, demonstrations which 
 H616ne, feeling thoroughly exhausted, received with melan- 
 choly pleasure ; henceforth, she could not give full expres- 
 sion to the feelings of her heart, for Diana's image would 
 ever be between her husband and herself However, she 
 did not repel his advances, but she signed to Emilie to take 
 him from the room. 
 
 She wished to reflect and to decide upon her line of con- 
 duct, and as soon as she regained full possession of her senses 
 she began to deliberate, in a calm and unprejudiced manner, 
 as to what she had better do in the painful position in 
 which she was placed. When she saw Louis so attentive to 
 herself, she thought, with indulgent wisdom, that he might 
 very easily have been indiflferent, and she did not curse 
 life now she was unhappy, but persistently looked only on 
 the bright side of things. She had a kind mother, a devoted 
 friend, an adorable child, and she thanked Heaven for 
 giving her so many things for which to be grateful, and did 
 not despair for the future. 
 
 She now knew the exact intellectual and moral worth 
 of her husband. To his weakness and inconsistency she 
 had never been blind, but she had been vain enough to 
 believe that she could bring him entirely under her own 
 influence, and thus be his guide. But he had escaped her 
 control, and another and a cleverer woman had brought 
 him into subjection, only to lead him astray, and her sway 
 must have been powerful indeed, since even the horror of 
 falsehood and deception had not driven Louis back to the 
 right path. Suspected, watched, discovered, forced to 
 
WILL. 307 
 
 blush before his wife and to conceal his doings from her, 
 he had still continued to deceive her, and perhaps the only 
 means of healing the wound within his gangrened heart 
 would be to cauterise it with the white-hot iron. 
 
 Not for one second after or before the violent shock she 
 had received did H61^ne think of accepting and submitting 
 to her ill-fortune. She would not surrender to the mistress, 
 she intended to defend her rights as a wife. To her, her 
 misfortune did not appear as a terrible exception which it be- 
 hoved her to bewail with despairing moans. All men alike 
 seemed to her weak, easily led by their vices, and as easily 
 governed by their passions. She did not believe that Louis 
 was worse than others, and she simply accepted humanity 
 as she found it — very frail and very wicked. But she was 
 convinced that with patience, determination, and indul- 
 gence she would succeed in rescuing her husband from the 
 mire in which he was wallowing, and to this end she resolved 
 not to speak to him of the encounter between Lady Olifaunt 
 and herself, not to show him in any way that she was aware 
 of his intrigue, not to make any scenes, but to wait until he 
 himself furnished her with an opportunity to speak out, and 
 then to throw herself heart and soul into the struggle 
 which she was determined should only be ended by the 
 final and irrecoverable defeat of either her rival or herself. 
 
 As if her brave resolves endued her with fresh strength, 
 H61fene's convalescence was very rapid, and at the end of 
 the week she was well again. During this week Louis had 
 not left the house, and had shown his wife every care and 
 attention affection could prompt. His first fretfulness soon 
 passed and he regained his usual sunny temper, and H616ne 
 attributed the change to joy at her own speedy recovery. 
 
308 WILL. 
 
 Had she been able to read her husband's heart, she would 
 have blushed with shame. 
 
 After twenty-four hours' enraged expectation, Louis had 
 at last received a few lines from Diana, in which she ex- 
 pressed herself as surprised at not having seen him since 
 the concert at LerebouUey's, and addressed a few loving 
 reproaches to him. But although his fury was a little 
 appeased by the arrival of the note, Louis replied somewhat 
 briefly that his wife was ill and that he could not leave 
 her. Then Diana commenced an epistolary combat in the 
 hope of forcing him to come and see her, if only for a 
 moment, for she was very sure that if she could but entice 
 him to her house, she could retain him there as long as she 
 chose ; but he very wisely resisted her orders and en- 
 treaties, and, amused at the persistence with which he was 
 pursued, kept out of reach of her seductions or her anger. 
 
 He had news of her through Thauziat, who never failed 
 to call every day to inquire after H61fene, and who described 
 to his friend Diana's irritation and the torments she in- 
 flicted on the unfortunate LerebouUey by way of avenging 
 herself. They laughed over her anger together, for Thau- 
 ziat had regained all his old good-humour, and only 
 became serious when Louis spoke of going to see Lady 
 Olifaunt again. Then his brows contracted, and, drawn 
 in opposite directions by his ardent desire to see Louis 
 definitely separated from his wife, and the fear of seeing 
 H6lfene suffer from such a separation, he cursed the 
 husband's inconstancy as he decided to subordinate his 
 own passion to the happiness of her he loved. Sometimes 
 a sudden impulse of generosity urged him to cry aloud to 
 Louis, " Fool that yon are, take care ! You are surrounded 
 
WILL. 809 
 
 by snares and pitfalls, you cannot take one step farther 
 along the path you have chosen without treading upon 
 either your own or another's happiness," and one day he 
 did say to his friend — 
 
 " You are very imprudent not to think more of looking 
 after your own possessions, instead of plundering other 
 people. If your wife ceased to love you, who knows if she 
 would not find herself without defence against another 
 man's love." 
 
 " But whose ? " 
 
 " Oh, mine, to begin with." 
 
 " Pshaw ! Surely two years have been long enough to 
 extinguish that bright flame," replied Louis, laughing. 
 " And, besides, do you think yourself so very dangerous t 
 Make love to my wife, if you like, it will be something for 
 you to do, and I am quite sure of her.'' 
 
 A deep furrow came on Thauziat's brow, and his lips 
 curled in a disdainful smUe. The depraved indifierence 
 Louis affected hurt instead of pleasing him, for he thought 
 not of himself, but of her who was so slightingly treated. 
 
 The day Madame H6rault was able to rise and walk 
 about her room a little while, Louis at last made up his 
 mind to call on Lady Olifaunt. It was four o'clock when 
 he reached her house, and she and her husband had just 
 come in. He found her lying on a divan in the Japanese 
 drawing-room idly turning over the pages of a novel, 
 while, in the next room, the door of which was open, Sir 
 James could be heard opening and shutting the drawers of 
 a cabinet. When she caught sight of Louis, Diana uttered 
 an exclamation of joy which she immediately stifled, and, 
 placing one finger on her lips, she seemed to enjoin upon 
 
310 WILL. 
 
 him a restraint to which he was unaccustomed. He was 
 silently asking himself the meaning of her attitude when 
 Sir James appeared with an exquisite miniature in his 
 hand. 
 
 " Ah, is it you, Monsieur H6rault 1 " he said, with a cold 
 smile. " Delighted I happened to be in when you called, 
 will you not sit down ? Diana, my dear, here is the por- 
 trait we were speaking of — Mademoiselle de Fontanges by 
 Petitot, a very valuable painting. See if you like the way 
 the hair is dressed." 
 
 " It is for a fancy-dress ball," explained Diana, as she 
 looked at the miniature. " No, I do not think these curls 
 will become me badly." 
 
 " It is some time since we have had the pleasure of seeing 
 you," resumed Sir James, addressing himself to Louis. 
 " Not since the concert at LerebouUey's ; and since then I 
 have been grieved to hear that you have had much worry 
 and anxiety. Has your charming wife recovered from her 
 indisposition t " 
 
 " Quite, thanks," answered Louis, very much astonished 
 at this sudden interest in H61fene. 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it ! Especially as we intend 
 giving a ball in about a fortnight. Yes, we wish to return 
 the hospitality we have received, and I trust you and 
 Madame H^rault will be among our guests." 
 
 To Louis these words sounded like a declaration of war. 
 He suspected a clever plot had been laid by the husband 
 and wife, and wishing to know exactly how matters stood, 
 he resolutely replied — 
 
 " I shall be most happy to come. Sir James, but I cannot 
 promise that Madame H^rault will accompany me. She 
 
WILL. 31] 
 
 has been ordered to take the greatest care, and I am afraid 
 she will be unable to avail herself of your kind invitation." 
 
 The Englishman's face became hard and sullen as when 
 he was arguing with Xereboulley about the value of a 
 picture, or the authenticity of the last curiosity he happened 
 to have acquired. He walked over to the fireplace, and, 
 leaning his back against it with an air of authority, said 
 stiffly— 
 
 " I am very sorry to hear that, both on Lady Olifaunt's 
 account and my own. We have heard from several quarters 
 that it has been remarked that we have only men at our 
 gatherings — men, of course, of the best society, but still 
 without their wives, their sisters, or their daughters. 
 Malevolent people have laid hold of the fact to turn it 
 against us, and therefore Lady Olifaunt and I have decided 
 that in future our doors will no longer be open to those of 
 our married friends who come to our house without their 
 wives. Hitherto we have yielded to the charm of their 
 friendship, but we must not disregard the opinion of the 
 world. That is why I regret Madame H6rault's health is 
 not in a state to permit of her coming to our ball, for the 
 agreeable relations between yourself and us must therefore, 
 I fear, be temporarily interrupted." 
 
 Louis rose, looking a little pale, and turning to Diana, 
 who still lay on the sofa and who had not interfered with 
 what her husband had said by word or gesture — 
 
 " If I do not mistake, madame, Sir James is forbidding 
 me his door 1 " 
 
 A stifled murmur issued from Diana's lips which was 
 midway between a moan and a burst of laughter, and that 
 was her only answer. 
 
312 WILL. 
 
 " Forbidding you my door ? " repeated Sir James, with 
 a gesture of protestation. " I am too polite to act thus 
 towards a gentleman, but you are too much a man of the 
 world not to see the justice of what I have just said to you. 
 However, I will leave you with Lady Olifaunt, who will 
 explain the matter to you even better than I could do.'' 
 
 He stretched out his hand to Louis, which the latter 
 took with a feeling of repugnance, and after dropping a kiss 
 on his wife's forehead went out of the room. Hardly had 
 the door closed behind him than Diana sprang to her feet, 
 and turning a tear-stained face towards her lover — 
 
 " At last you are here ! " she exclaimed. " You have 
 not an idea what my life has been for the last week, and I 
 did not dare write to you because I know how unsafe my 
 letters are at your house. I do not know what abominable 
 tales have been told to Sir James, but he is beside himself. 
 He says that his honour is in peril, and that we must 
 either change our mode of life here in Paris or return to 
 England—" 
 
 " He would take you away 1 " broke in Louis. " Then 
 it is with your consent, for he does nothing but what you 
 ydsh." 
 
 " He generally treats me like a spoilt child, I know ; but 
 when the question is a serious one — and what could there 
 be more serious than what has happened t People are 
 saying that you simply lived at my house. The terrible 
 scene at Lereboulley's has got about. How 1 No doubt 
 through that horrid Emilie, for neither Thauziat, nor Lere- 
 boulley, nor your wife would have said anything about it. 
 You know how jealous all these ugly, neglected old women 
 are of me, and during this last week I have been sq 
 
WILL. 313 
 
 insulted ! I cannot enter a drawing-room without my 
 heart palpitating with fear. And I suffer all this through 
 you. Oh, I am not complaining, but pray do all you can 
 to prevent these annoyances." 
 
 She had made him sit down on the divan beside her, 
 and, as she nestled up to him, she threw around him her' 
 white arm, left bare by the large sleeve of a loose gown of 
 old rose satin which was merely confined at the waist by a 
 golden girdle. Her blue eyes glistened beneath the tangle 
 of yellow hair, her little head was resting on Louis' breast, 
 and her smiling lips seemed to be seeking a kiss which she 
 avoided immediately the young man's eager mouth ap- 
 proached hers. She intoxicated him with her breath and 
 with the warm perfume her supple form exhaled, and in 
 her desire to excite his passion she passed from coyness to 
 affection and from the height of joy to the deepest despair 
 with a suddenness and skill which made of her ten women 
 united in one. 
 
 He, scorched by her eyes, drunk with her smiles, caught 
 her by the shoulders and drew her within his arms. 
 Again he was possessed by his feverish passion, and uncon- 
 scious of everything but her presence. The memories of 
 past voluptuousness returned to him, accompanied by the 
 dream of fresh pleasures. He longed for Diana, he was 
 angry with himself for having stayed away from her a whole 
 week and wondered how he could have done it, and now 
 he was ready to sacrifice everyone and everything in the 
 world to call her his. 
 
 TheUj with words mingled with kisses, Diana began to 
 prove to him that it would not be very much to do for her 
 to bring Madame H^rault to the ball. All that she wanted 
 
314 WILL. 
 
 was for H61fene to walk through the rooms, so that people 
 could see she was there. It wouldn't matter after that 
 what anyone said, for the answer would be ready — "It is 
 a proof that Louis H6rault is not Lady Olifaunt's lover, 
 his wife goes to her house." Of course it would be a little 
 humbling to H61^ne's pride, but what would that matter 
 since she would be only making a slight reparation to the 
 woman she had so cruelly insulted and outraged 1 And 
 these perfidious arguments were followed by so many kisses 
 that their treachery was hidden, and that Louis finally gave 
 his word to make his wife consent to accompany him. 
 
 He was immediately rewarded for his cowardice by the 
 most passionate demonstrations of affection. Diana thanked 
 him over and over again, and even went so far as to shed 
 tears. She was, in fact, transported with joy at the thought 
 of the revenge she was going to take upon H^lene, and to 
 Louis she repeated again and again the words, " I love 
 you ! " with a sincerity which was founded on a mortal 
 hatred, while he, amidst these transports, never thought of 
 the infamy of the promise he had made, or of the affront 
 which would be inflicted on his wife and for which he 
 would be partly answerable. What did it matter how or 
 at what price he was gratified as long as his satisfaction 
 was complete ? 
 
 That evening, for the first time since H616ne's illness, he 
 did not go home to dinner, and the next day he was simply 
 coldly amiable, as he had been for too long a time. But 
 H616ne, who knew him so well, could see that there was 
 something unusual amiss with him. He was worried by 
 an anxiety he carefully concealed, and his wife vainly 
 sought to discover what fresh idea there was in this heart 
 
WILL. 315 
 
 henceforth closed to her. Emilie, when she questioned her, 
 was unable to tell anything, but H616ne found out too soon 
 the cause of her husband's anxiety. 
 
 One morning she found amongst her letters an invitation 
 which ran as follows : " Sir James and Lady Olifaunt 
 request the pleasure of Madame H6rault's society at a 
 ball— " 
 
 H6lfene read no farther. Had she seen on the thick, 
 square card : " H^lfene H6rault is Lady Olifaunt's slave, 
 and can be ridiculed, insulted, or tortured by her with 
 impunity," it would not have come as a greater shock to 
 her. She did not hear Louis enter the room, and he 
 came up to the arm-chair in which she was seated without 
 her noticing his presence. 
 
 " What is the matter 1 " he asked. 
 
 She raised her head, cast a sorrowful glance upon her 
 husband, and in silence gave him the card. He started, 
 his lips tightened, and his eyes could hardly be seen beneath 
 his contracted brows. A sharp pang shot through his 
 heart, but he did not recoil before the shame of his bond. 
 He merely looked at the card, and said carelessly — 
 
 "An invitation from the Olifaunts'! Oh, yes, I had 
 forgotten to speak to you about it." 
 
 " Then you knew we were going to receive one 1 " 
 
 "Yes," he replied, boldly; this man, generally so weak, 
 became implacable when his resolution was taken. 
 
 H61fene shuddered at the clear, decided aflBrmation — she 
 felt she was abandoned, sacrificed. Her anguish was so 
 great that the tears sprang to her eyes, but still she con- 
 tinued her questions. 
 
 " You have not said that we will go ? " 
 
316 Will. 
 
 She murmured the words imploringly, as if she were 
 entreating mercy. She would have softened the heart of 
 an inquisitor, but it was to her husband she was speaking. 
 
 "I should have preferred to decline, and especially to 
 have spared you the trouble of accompanying me," he 
 replied ; " but I have been forced to yield to peculiar 
 circumstances, and I have promised — " 
 
 " But you know what people say of this woman 1 " she 
 interposed gently. 
 
 " People say so many, and generally such stupid and 
 such malicious things, that one oughtn't to take any notice 
 of them. Lady Olifaunt is received everywhere — " 
 
 " But no one goes to her house." 
 
 " Because they have not had the opportunity. This will 
 be the first time she has issued invitations to others than 
 her intimate friends — " 
 
 " Of whom you are one." 
 
 "Of whom I am one, I am happy to say, for Lady 
 Olifaunt is a charming and agreeable woman, and exceed- 
 ingly devoted to her friends." 
 
 " And also to her lovers ! " 
 
 " H6I^ne ! " 
 
 By rapid gradations their voices had become higher as 
 their words had become more bitter, and now, incensed by 
 the violence with which Louis was attempting to vanquish 
 her, H61fene started to her feet, trembling with indignation. 
 A dull rage was urging her to use taunting words, and she 
 felt a bitter pleasure in returning blow for blow in this 
 terrible combat. She took a few rapid strides, then, with 
 an accent of firmness and determination quite new to her 
 husband, said — 
 
WILL. 317 
 
 "Listen, Louis. The present is one of the most serious 
 hours of our lives, and we ought not to act as if the question 
 were one of no importance, but to discuss it in all its 
 bearings. Do me the justice to own that hitherto you 
 have never heard me complain, though I have had good 
 reason to do so. You have been false to me, and I have 
 said nothing ; you have told me lie after lie, and I have 
 said nothing; you have exposed me to moral torture, so 
 acute that it made me seriously ill and might have en- 
 dangered the life of our child, and I have said nothing. 
 But now, to contribute to your mistress's success, to add to 
 her triumph, you wish to force me to follow and escort her 
 as if I were her friend and your complacent wife, and this 
 time I rebel. I have borne grief ; I will not consent to 
 disgrace. Tears, yes ; shame, never ! " 
 
 "Where is there any question of triumph, and what 
 would constitute the disgrace ? " returned Louis in a 
 voice which shook, for the resistance he encountered 
 was determined and he was naturally . incapable of sup- 
 porting a lengthened struggle. "All you are asked to 
 do is simply to appear for a quarter of an hour in a 
 drawing-room where all the best society in Paris will 
 be assembled." 
 
 "I will not go to be stared at. Find myself the object 
 of everybody's insolent curiosity, expose myself to the 
 chance of hearing the serenity with which I should be 
 forced to support the humiliation prepared for me praised 
 or blamed ! No, I refuse ! " 
 
 For a moment Louis was silent, apparently reflecting. 
 Then, as if he had found fresh reinforcements — 
 
 " It was you who inflicted humiliation, at LerebouUey's 
 
318 WILL. 
 
 the other evening; it was Lady Olifaunt who was the 
 object of curiosity when you insulted her before her friends 
 and ours. Your presence at her house will have no effect, 
 except that of lessening the injury you did her, and 
 which she did not merit. For, though you accuse her, 
 what proof have you of what you say? Until now, I 
 have disdained to defend myself, but now I suppose I must 
 do so since your jealousy is the only obstacle to this 
 necessary reconciliation." 
 
 "And which you are being forced to bring about, are 
 you not t And in return for which you will be adored, 
 and which you are cruel enough to demand from me, and 
 to which you think me weak enough to consent ! Well, 
 then, undeceive yourself, and do not attempt any longer to 
 abuse my good-nature. I know all that I need know, I do 
 not suspect, I am certain. I have seen you going to keep 
 your appointment, I have held in my hands the letter in 
 which it was made. But however keenly I may have suflfered 
 from the blow, I was silent ; not from fear of you, but from 
 affection for you. I hoped that when you saw my torture 
 you would retrace your steps and return to the wife who 
 really loves you, who never has loved and never will love 
 anyone but you. But, instead of making you pity me, I 
 only encouraged you in your misconduct. When you found 
 the path of vice so easy, you delighted in it, and now you 
 have so far lost all sense of morality as to ask me to hide 
 the defects of the woman who has stolen you from me 
 under the cloak of my spotless reputation. You request 
 me to chaperon my rival, and your cheek would not flush 
 if you saw us together hand in hand — your wife, the 
 woman who bears your name, the mother of your son, in 
 
WILL. 319 
 
 close companionship with that shameless creature ! Come, 
 Louis, think of it, return to your senses and do not give me 
 the pain of seeing that you persist in spite of all I have 
 said to you. Have you so little respect for me ? Come, 
 tell me all. Into what horrible contract have you entered 
 that you do not surrender to my arguments, that you do 
 not yield to my prayers ? Did you really promise I should 
 go?" 
 
 Deathly pale, his features drawn by the horror of this 
 torture, Louis made no answer. He did not dare to look 
 at H61^ne, and, inert but unyielding, he stood motionless, 
 his eyes vacantly staring at a flower on the carpet. 
 
 H61fene, with heart throbbing so fast that it almost suffo- 
 cated her and quivering lips, but still mistress of her 
 thoughts and resolute and strong in her determination, 
 drew closer to him, took his hand, and forced him to look 
 up. 
 
 " Louis," she said very gently, " have you given your 
 word that I shall go i " 
 
 He could not unclench his teeth, but he bent his head to 
 intimate — yes. 
 
 " Very well, then," said H61ene, simply. " You must 
 not break it even to such people as these. I will go." 
 
 This time he looked at her, and to his eyes she appeared 
 increased by all her moral height. There was nothing of 
 the martyr, nothing violent, nothing theatrical in her 
 demeanour, she sacrificed her womanly dignity with the 
 sweet gentleness of a mother. He would have spoken to 
 her but the words died in his throat, and he could only 
 hold out his hand as though to ask forgiveness; then, 
 dropping into an arm-chair, he burst into sobs. 
 
320 WILL. 
 
 And as she, with an intense and pitying melancholy, 
 saw him weep, Emilie's words returned once more to her 
 memory — " a child, nothing but a child ! " She bent over 
 him and softly wiped away the tears which were coursing 
 down his cheeks, and, as she did so, Louis seized one of 
 the soothing hands, pressed it to his lips with tender 
 respect, and then giving vent to all his misery — 
 
 " Oh, how base and cowardly I am ! " he said. " And 
 you, you are the bravest and most devoted of wives. What 
 can there be in me that vice should have such an attraction 
 for me that I cannot do without it 1 And yet I love you 
 with my whole heart, I swear it, and you know it. I 
 despise this woman, there are moments when I even hate 
 her, and yet I cannot live without her. I reproach myself 
 for the baseness of my conduct, I would throw myself at 
 your feet to obtain your pardon, and yet if you asked me 
 to swear that I would never return to my folly I should 
 perjure myself, for I know I could not keep my oath. Oh, 
 I implore you, you who are so strong, save me from my- 
 self, give me courage, honour. Why have you forsaken 
 me, why have you left me to myself all this last year 1 I 
 should not have committed all these faults if you had been 
 always beside me to guide and protect me. I am a poor 
 wretch, without courage and without honour, I have out- 
 raged and insulted you, and you, who are perfection, hardly 
 address one word of reproach to me. Ah, what a brute 
 I am, and how unworthy of your pity ! Abandon me. 
 Stay with my grandmother that she may have some one by 
 her dying bed, but submit no longer to the torture I inflict 
 upon you. And I will go away, you shall not see me 
 again." 
 
WILL. 321 
 
 She looked at him reproachfully. 
 
 " And your child ! " she said. " Have you forgotten 
 him 1 Alas, I do not mind what happens to me, and I am 
 ready for almost every sacrifice for your sake. I was only 
 a poor, little work-girl living in a garret, when your grand- 
 mother came and took me by the hand, led me to your 
 house and treated me as her daughter. I shall never forget 
 that, and I shall discharge my debt to her and you by my 
 devotion to you. If the worst comes to the worst, you can 
 leave me, for you have the right to think that you have 
 done enough for me by giving me your name, your fortune, 
 and a whole year of happiness. But your child 1 You 
 speak of going away, of never returning again ; then do you 
 think you owe him nothing ? Think that one day he will 
 look to you for an example, and you will not be able to fit 
 yourself for the task all in a moment — it will need years of 
 preparation. A mother alone is not suf5cient for a son, 
 and the father has serious duties to fulfil. Forgive me for 
 speaking to you thus. You cannot know how much I love 
 you, and what sacrifices T would make to make you better. 
 All you need is a little firmness, for you are already good 
 and generous. Promise me you will resist temptation and 
 that you will return to us who love you truly. It would 
 make us so happy, and Louis, it would be oh, so simple, so 
 easy, and so sweet !" 
 
 As he listened he did think that it would be easy, simple, 
 and sweet, he did think it would be better not to tell any 
 more lies, not to be forced to all kinds of deception or to 
 live under the load of a perpetual remorse. He thought of 
 the happy days at Boissise, with their quiet peacefulness, 
 their refreshing repose. Why should he not have such 
 
322 WILL. 
 
 days again, days when he felt free in heart and mind? 
 Why should he not go away with H61fene to Italy or Spain, 
 to a sunny land where he would be far from all intrigue 
 and safe from every temptation 1 He opened his lips to 
 cry : " Let us go away," but even as he did so, the blue 
 eyes, the rosy lips, the golden hair of Lady Olifaunt 
 suddenly appeared before his eyes and dispelled all his 
 happy, salutary plans. Then his pride whispered ; " What 
 would your friends think of you ? You will look like a 
 naughty boy who obeys when he is scolded. Your wife's 
 reprimand has reduced you to submission and repentance, 
 are you then no longer the master 1 Fool to let yourself 
 be taken in by high sounding phrases about family duties ! 
 Have such men as you any law but their own caprice 1 Can 
 you be restrained by- moral chains'! Are you, like most 
 martyrs, under the sway of childish prejudices 1 Or are 
 you amongst the exceptional beings who know how to free 
 themselves from social restraint?" In an instant his 
 mind was changed and he thought himself a fool and an 
 idiot for having almost yielded to such petty, everyday 
 arguments. The demon which was within him gained 
 the victory, and he became as cold as he had but just 
 before been zealous. All trace of regret and repentance 
 vanished, leaving in his heart but the one desire to satisfy 
 his passions. 
 
 But he dared not boldly raise his head and say so. He 
 took H61fene's hand, held it in his own, and again pressed it 
 to his lips. But his wife had read his thoughts upon his 
 face, she had seen him becoming gradually calmer and colder, 
 and the affectionate words he addressed to her before he left 
 her passed over her head like meaningless sounds. Then 
 
WILL. 328 
 
 when she was alone, she recognised the futility of her 
 efforts and wept bitterly. 
 
 Thenceforth, she ceased to hope that she could, hy her 
 constant gentleness and untiring affection, triumph over 
 her husband's ingratitude and bring" him back to herself. 
 But still she was not disheartened ; she did not make any 
 change in her behaviour, and never had she been sweeter 
 or more charming than she was during this trying time. 
 She had defied destiny and she was ready to fight to the 
 last, and she employed wonderful ingenuity in her efforts to 
 please her husband, to attract him to her and to keep him. 
 She endeavoured to ensnare him by coquetry and was 
 delighted at her slightest success ; she made his home so 
 agreeable that he had no excuse for not staying there, but 
 she did not go sd far as to admit Louis to her chamber. 
 The victory of to-day would have been too dearly bought 
 by the abandonment of the morrow, and she could not 
 admit the idea of sharing her husband's caresses with an- 
 other. He should be hers entirely or not at all, and, in 
 the meantime, she knew so well how to present the appear- 
 ance of a perfectly happy woman that old Madame H6rault, 
 who always lived with the young couple, had not the 
 slightest idea of the troubles which lay between them. 
 
 Since the scene between her husband and herself, H61fene 
 had not once referred to Lady Olifaunt's ball. She hoped 
 that at the last moment Louis would see the shame of his 
 conduct and would say to her : " Do not let us go." But if 
 he did not do so, she was resolved to accompany him, for 
 she had fully decided upon the heroic sacrifice. She had 
 asked Emilie if she had received an invitation. 
 
 " Yes," Mademoiselle Lereboulley had replied. " Diana 
 
324 WILL. 
 
 has set her heart on having at least one honest woman at 
 her house that evening." 
 
 "Then there will be two— you and myself." 
 
 Emilie had frowned and had only said : " Ah ? " but 
 she had looked at H^l^ne as if she would penetrate her 
 very soul. 
 
 The following day Thauziat and H^lfene happened to 
 meet at a friend's house, and, after a few unimportant words 
 had been exchanged, Clement suddenly asked — 
 
 "Is it true that you are going to Lady Olif aunt's to- 
 morrow evening ? " 
 
 " Why do you ask t " 
 
 " Because she is boasting that you will be there.'' 
 
 " Is it then something for her to be proud of V 
 
 " Exceedingly proud." 
 
 " So much the better if she is satisfied. I, myself, 
 attach but very slight importance to the event." 
 
 "Then you are not jealous 1 " 
 
 " No, not now." 
 
 Then, turning a little paler, she added with a laugh, 
 which sounded forced — 
 
 " After a time one becomes accustomed to everything, 
 you know." 
 
 He fixed his dark, soft, melancholy eyes on her and 
 gravely said — 
 
 " I pity you from the bottom of my heart." 
 
 She raised her head. 
 
 " You need not do so," she said almost roughly. " I do 
 not wish for pity, and I am not in need of consolation." 
 
 "You cannot prevent me thinking that fate has been 
 most unkind to you, or from wishing that you may be 
 
WILL. 325 
 
 happy even at the cost of pain to myself," he replied. 
 " I have not changed, as you are very well aware. Some 
 men can be faithful to their love." 
 
 "For what, then, do you hope?" she demanded, looking 
 at him haughtily. 
 
 " For nothing. But I love you, and I seek your society 
 because it is happiness to me to see you and to hear you 
 speak. I pity you, because you bear your trouble so 
 bravely, and I only wish I could prevent you committing 
 heroic follies which wUl not make the man, for whose sake 
 you do them, think any better of you, but which will lower 
 you in the opinion of the world. You are bound to receive 
 cruel wounds in the fight you have begun, for your weapons 
 are not equal to your opponents'. They wear the armour of 
 indifference and malice, while you have neither gauntlet 
 nor breast-plate. They are hypocritical and sly, you are 
 frank and true. It is impossible for you to win." 
 
 He paused, but she could not speak, for it seemed to her 
 as if she had just heard her death-warrant pronounced. 
 And yet she guessed that even now he had not told her all, 
 and she glanced at him with entreating eyes. He 'seemed 
 to understand her, for he answered — 
 
 "You do not know your husband, and you have been 
 going the wrong way to work with him from the very first. 
 He is a man who has neither affection nor esteem save for 
 those who offer him resistance. You have been good and 
 gentle to him, and he has tortured you — he was certain to 
 do so. But there is still time. Be harsh and implacable, 
 and, above all, refuse to humble yourself before your 
 rival." 
 
 Then, as she sadly shook her head — 
 
326 WILL. 
 
 "You will not? Then there is nothing more to say. 
 But do not forget that I have been disinterested enough to 
 give you this advice, and remember that you will always 
 find in me a friend who is passionately devoted to you." 
 
 And with a sigh, he bowed and left her, and H61ene re- 
 turned home grave and thoughtful. 
 
 When the morning of the ball arrived, Louis could not 
 conceal his nervousness though he conversed with affected 
 gaiety and paid no attention to his wife's sad seriousness. 
 He passed the whole day at his ofi&ce at Saint Denis, only 
 returning home just in time for dinner. As they rose from 
 table, he asked his wife, shortly — 
 
 " Shall you be ready to start by eleven o'clock 1 " 
 
 "Yes," she answered, giving up all hope of Louis 
 yielding to a better feeling. 
 
 Then, followed by old Madame H6rault, she went to 
 her room and stayed for a moment, playing with her child, 
 but there she felt so thoroughly miserable that she was 
 totally unable to restrain her tears. The startled old 
 grandmother went to her, took her hands and questioned 
 her, but she refused to answer. Her grief was hers and 
 hers alone, it sprang from her love and she guarded it 
 jealously. She soon composed herself and began to dress, 
 and by eleven o'clock she was ready. But she would not 
 go down to the drawing-room as she generally did — she 
 awaited Louis in her own room. At last he came for her, 
 thinking, a little impatiently, that she was late ; but when 
 he saw her, he paused in surprise at her beauty. , 
 
 She had put on a white dress, embroidered with pearls. 
 There was no ornament of any kind around her neck, but 
 in her hair, which was slightly waved, she wore a little 
 
WILL. 327 
 
 aigrette, which gave her an air of pride and liauteur. She 
 advanced to meet her husband, and, taking him by the 
 hand, drew him into the next room where her little boy 
 vs^as sleeping. Parting the curtains of the cot, she showed 
 him the child, fresh and rosy as a flower. Louis bent over 
 his son, gazed at him in silence, then leant down and kissed 
 him. As he did so, H^lfene's heart seemed to leap into 
 her mouth, and she almost cried, " For his sake, stay here 
 with me ! " But Louis had already raised his head again, 
 and was fingering his tie to see that it was not disarranged. 
 
 The young mother saw that her last effort had been in 
 vain, and drawing the curtains with tender respect, as if 
 she had been veiling a temple from scoffing eyes — 
 
 " Come, let us go," she said. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Diana, beaming with pride and satisfaction, had pressed 
 the hand of the woman who had insulted her and had pre- 
 sented to the eyes of the stupefied Lereboulley the unex- 
 pected spectacle of Madame H6rault walking through Lady 
 Olifau tit's drawing-rooms on Sir James's arm, and now, 
 light and airy as a butterfly in her blue gauze dress, she 
 was going from group to group receiving everybody's com- 
 pliments and smiles. 
 
 All the prettiest women and the best known men in 
 Parisian society were there, and all these elegant women 
 and handsome men dancing with so much animation and 
 enjoyment really formed a very pretty picture. Fans were 
 fluttering before white breasts like butterflies' wings, 
 diamonds were gleaming and sparkling on alabaster necks 
 and skirts were lightly whirling round as if borne along in 
 a dazzling flight on the breeze of the melodies the orchestra 
 was giving forth. 
 
 Fat, round, and rosy, Lereboulley was at the height of 
 his delight amidst this brilliant throng enjoying themselves 
 in this beautiful house. One would almost have thought it 
 was he who was giving the ball. He passed along in 
 Diana's wake, drinking in the words of praise, compromising 
 his mistress by his look of pride and satisfaction, and 
 totally forgetful of Sir James, who was testing his guests' 
 luck at a card-table. The senator could see now that the 
 pretended liaison between Louis and Diana did not exist. 
 
WILL. 329 
 
 Since Madame Hdrault was there, smiling and calm, seated 
 with Emilie, among some more young married women, she 
 must have received proof that her suspicions were un- 
 founded, and Lereboulley could breathe freely now he was 
 sure his happiness was not in any way endangered. For 
 the first time for a fortnight he chatted familiarly with 
 Louis, and joked as he looked at the young man with 
 an air of benevolence. 
 
 " I say, my boy, every pretty woman in Paris is here this 
 evening. If the house caught fire and no one could get 
 out, the men wouldn't know how to dispose of their hearts 
 to-morrow." 
 
 He laughed at his own ponderous wit, and, seeing Diana 
 approaching, advanced to meet her. 
 
 The beautiful Englishwoman drew him aside, and said 
 with an air of triumphant innocence — 
 
 " Well, you see she is here, and she doesn't look as 
 though there is much the matter.'' 
 
 " Yes, yes, and I am delighted. I like all the H6raults 
 very much, but I love my little Diana still more. You are 
 looking deucedly lovely this evening, and Louis' wife is the 
 only woman I can see who can be at all compared with you. 
 If you forsook me she would be the only one who could 
 console me for your loss." 
 
 There was a gleam of demoniacal malice in Lady 
 Olifaunt's eyes as she replied — 
 
 " Then you would most probably be doomed to die of 
 grief. Thauziat is there before you." 
 
 " Thauziat 1 " repeated Lereboulley in amazenlent. " You 
 are mad, Diana. Madame H6rault is the most virtuous of 
 women, she loves no one but her husTjand." 
 
" 'rin'ii what M\\ 1 wlio niu'iilit'c iuim> t'tir vow T' ImoUo in 
 i!ul_v Olitiuiut luigrily. '■ Not up to luiioli, I siiii|io.s(rl " 
 
 " Vou, niiimv, ivro tln> (nulunlimoul. of tonvstiial [hm'Timi- 
 ion, hut Miul.'uuo iiiM'iiull' 
 
 "t>li, 1 am siolv oi' lu'iU'iu};' alioiit Mailaiuo Uoiiuilt. ! An 
 xtraordinai'ily luoUy woriv j;irl wlioin vou troat m if siio 
 voro a ilui'luvs.s ! W'iiat is lliero so wiuidoi'i'ul aliout luu' 'I 
 riiauiBiat is mail about lu^r, autl jou, youi-Noil", arc liocomiuj^ 
 bolish on tlu> siiii\o iHiiiit, tio anil talk to Uor. Sim will Itijl 
 ou all about hot' brat's apix^tito, and iltwcribi" (ho tMuotions 
 noidonlal to tho outtiug of tho liiwli toolh, for not only is 
 \w tho moat virtuous of \vonu>n, but. also tiu^ host of 
 notlun's. And a lot of !;;ood thiiX iloos luu' husband I " And 
 iho burst, into a lauL;'h, 
 
 " 1 hiwo voxod you, Uiaiui. ('oim<, ftu'j^ivo miv" 
 
 "No! do afl.or |.lu> most virtuous of hor sox, 1 am only 
 I protty woman ; I havo not tho (lUMlitios vou ro(|uin>." 
 
 So saying, sho turned Imr bark (ui hiiu iiud wout into tho 
 lard-rooni. 
 
 llo foUowod hor with his oyos, and saw hor go up to 
 Ijouis. Sho took his arm, wliiupKrod t.o him in oari'ssinj;' 
 asliiiui, and thon tlu^ s(iuator saw thorn slowly 1(>m.V(^ tho 
 •oom tof;ol.hor. 
 
 li(M'olioulloy soatoil hinmiilf at a l.ablo, ami b(i}j;an to play 
 'niarto. (lomu'ally ho |)layod tho gamo woU, but that nigiit 
 u> mado i\vn)v al'tor ornu', for his thoiin'hts won* luit on 
 tvhat ho waH doing. NVhy ha.d |)iami. tiduui Konlx' arui, 
 ind wduit had alio said to him 'I Whori^ had thoy nmu^'l 
 What woro thoy doinj^'l All thnso (juostiuus rushod 
 jiu'ough his brnin, and to uouo of thoui could liu llnd a 
 iatisl'a('tory answor. Tho ill t<(«Mi{ior Diana had hii Huddonly 
 
WILL. 331 
 
 displayed to him had made him uneasy in the first place, 
 and the good terms on which she appeared to be with 
 Louis had succeeded in thoroughly arousing his fears. The 
 perspiration stood out upon the big man's forehead as he 
 asked himself if he had not been deceived by Lady 
 Olifaunt, and if at this very moment she might not be 
 laughing at him with H^rault. 
 
 He threw down his cards, settled his losses, and hastily 
 walked towards the door by which he had seen the couple, 
 who now seemed to justify his suspicions, leave the room. In 
 the smaller drawing room, which was full of men and their 
 partners, he could see neither Louis nor Diana. Madame 
 Herault, looking a little pale, was sitting talking to Emilie 
 on a divan which, placed between the mantelpiece and the 
 door, formed a sort of little nook whither no one came to dis- 
 turb them. Lereboulley nodded to them, and passed on. 
 In the corridor, still no trace of those he was seeking. The 
 staircase which led to the second floor was ablaze with light, 
 and the landing-place, with its marble columns, had been 
 turned into a refreshment-room. The strains of the 
 orchestra sounded softly in the distance, couples were 
 coming up and going down, their talk and laughter blend- 
 ing into a joyous murmur, and the chinking of silver and 
 china testified to the honour Sir James's guests were doing 
 to his hospitality. 
 
 The senator went up the short flight of stairs and found 
 himself in the corridor leading to Diana's bedroom. The 
 refreshment-room had attracted a crowd, but the corridor 
 was deserted. There was a soft light issuing from the half- 
 opened door of the boudoir, and when he saw it Lere- 
 boulley's heart stood still — he had a presentiment that 
 
332 WILL. 
 
 beyond that door he would find Louis and Diana. An 
 intense longing to know his fate urged him to go forward, 
 and yet he dared not, and he dropped on to a seat, his face 
 working with emotion as he asked himself, " Shall I go in, 
 or shaU I not 1 " 
 
 Louis and Diana had, in fact, come the same way as 
 LerebouUey. They had crossed the smaller drawing-room 
 without seeing Helfene and Emilie sitting in their comer, 
 they had gone up to the refreshment-room, and finding the 
 corridor empty, had entered Diana's boudoir, which was 
 only lighted by one lamp, and they had stayed in the 
 semi-darkness, enjoying the coolness and quiet of the room 
 and the shadows which rested their eyes. What, in the 
 corridor was only a stifled noise, was there no more than a 
 murmur, and the soft harmonious tumult which reminded 
 them that the house was en fUe was just enough to make 
 this temporary peacefulness the more delicious. 
 
 Lady Olifaunt as she stood by the mantelpiece just 
 touched by the soft rays of the lamp had the airy graceful- 
 ness of a phantom. Louis could not take his eyes from her, 
 and at last he said, drawing nearer to her — 
 
 " Well, Diana, you see I have obeyed you, although the 
 sacrifice you demanded from me was the greatest I could 
 possibly make ; what reward am I to have ] " 
 
 " Do you want a reward for having given a proof of love 
 to a woman who risks so much simply to please you 1 I 
 love you, is not that enough ? " 
 
 " Say that again." 
 
 "Do you doubt it?" 
 
 " No, but it is such happiness to hear you say it. From 
 your lips, the words have a charm I never suspected they 
 
WILL. 333 
 
 possessed. Ah, Diana, what powerful spell do you possess 
 that you are able to make a man oblivious of everything 
 and everybody but yourself? Each time I have tried to 
 tear myself away from you I have been compelled to return 
 to your feet by a force stronger than my will. You say 
 that you risk much for me, but what do I not risk for you 1 
 The happiness and peace of mind of those nearest to me. 
 If you are guilty, I must be a hundred times more so ! 
 Then, love me dearly, for your love now is the only joy I 
 have." 
 
 He had uttered these words with an ardour which was 
 almost convulsive. Diana moved yet closer to him, and, 
 clasping her white arms around his neck, she said in tender, 
 vibrating tones — 
 
 " I love you, and you alone." 
 
 As she spoke a stifled cry fell on their ears, and turning 
 round, they saw on the threshold of the boudoir (which he 
 had entered through the bedroom) LerebouUey. Pale as 
 death, his legs shaking under him, his lips trembling, he 
 was gazing at them in despairing amazement. He had 
 entered the room just in time to see Diana embrace Louis 
 and to hear her confession of love, and, paralysed by the 
 shock, he stood motionless, unable to give expression to his 
 thoughts. But there could be no doubt that they were 
 terrible, for as he stood he clenched and unclenched his fists 
 as though preparing for the combat. At last he uttered a 
 shriek of rage, and rushing upon Diana, who was impassively 
 awaiting his attack — 
 
 " Wretch ! " he yelled. " Shameless woman ! " 
 
 Without retreating a step, she pointed to the door with 
 an ironic laugh. 
 
34 WILL. 
 
 " I do not allow anyone to shout in my house," she 
 lid haughtily. " And besides, by what right do you dare 
 D come in here and threaten me 1 Are you my husband 1 " 
 
 To these words, which so clearly defined their relative 
 ositions, the old man only replied by a sullen look. He 
 sit in what a false position he was placed, he understood 
 hat the authority he claimed over- Diana he held from 
 erself alone, and that by a word she could deprive him 
 f it. In a second he calculated the immensity of the 
 Dss he was in danger of suffering, and realised that life 
 ?ould be impossible without the woman who filled it for 
 im with delight and pride. He asked himself if it would 
 lot be wiser to descend to the shame of craving forgiveness 
 nd of submitting to everything, but he still had a vague 
 dea of offering some resistance. " I am rich enough to 
 aake all hesitation between Louis and myself impossible 
 or her," he thought. And then, as another wave of fury 
 lassed over him, he threw prudence to the winds. 
 
 " It is true I am not your husband," he cried, " but I am 
 our lover — " 
 
 Diana did not give him time to finish his sentence, but 
 eaning on Louis'- shoulder with voluptuous grace — 
 
 " Here is my lover," she said. 
 
 " Diana ! " exclaimed the amorous LerebouUey, over- 
 (rhelmed by the confession. " Diana, there is yet time for 
 •ou to think. I have heard nothing, I do not wish to 
 :now anything ; I have forgotten all. But do not treat me 
 vith such barbarity. You are displeased, and you have a 
 ight to be, but I was carried away by my anger, and I 
 orgot myself. You know I love you — Diana — " 
 
 He saw that she was perfectly unmoved as she stood 
 
WILL. 335 
 
 looking at him with her blue eyes, cold and shining as 
 steel. Then, with a gesture of indignant revolt — 
 
 " Oh, to let me humiliate myself in vain before this boy, 
 I an old man, after all the kindness I have shown you ! 
 No one will ever love you as I have loved you. I have 
 been delighted to submit to your every caprice ; you have 
 not had a fantasy I have not gratified ; you have only had 
 to speak, and I have never counted cost if I could please 
 you. You are rich, you have the most costly jewels in 
 Paris ; your house is kept in princely style, and I am ready 
 to increase my prodigality. If you had remained faithful 
 to me, I should have left you a portion of my fortune at my 
 death, for I cared for you as for my daughter, and I am 
 old, you would not have had very long to wait. Diana, 
 reflect; it is worth the trouble, for once I have passed 
 the threshold of this door all will be over between us, and I 
 will never return." 
 
 Diana began to laugh, and looking at him in a way which 
 sent a thrill all over him, replied coldly — 
 
 " You will return whenever I choose. I shall only have 
 to beckon you." 
 
 He bent under this insolent bravado as if he were going 
 to throw himself on his knees. 
 
 " Yes, that is true. I feel I shall return, but spare me 
 the pain of going." 
 
 He went up to her, took her by the hand, drew her into 
 the window, and fixing his ardent eyes upon her — 
 
 " What must I do to make you willing to retain me 1 
 Submit to all, to the shame of being no longer the master 
 here, to the torture of sharing your caresses with another ] 
 Well, I will do that, for then at least I shall still have you, 
 
i36 WILL. 
 
 md if I shut my eyes to your misdoings you will know 
 low to give me the illusion of happiness." 
 
 " No," replied Diana, harshly. 
 
 " Do you love him, then i " 
 
 "I almost think I do, so strong is my hatred for his 
 ivife," she replied in a lower tone, stealing a furtive glance 
 it Louis. 
 
 " He cannot do as much for you as I havB done. He wiU 
 be ruined in a year." 
 
 "So much the better. Then she will be reduced to 
 Daisery." 
 
 " If that is w^hat you are aiming at, it can soon be 
 accomplished," returned Lereboulley, with a cruel laugh. 
 ■' But why dismiss me ?" he went on entreatingly. " Why, 
 Diana 1 " 
 
 "My house will still be open to you, as to my other 
 friends. It will only be for you to come." 
 
 " Never will I enter it on those terms. My suffering 
 would be too great. Listen, Diana ; do not push me to 
 extremities. I would do anything, even the basest action, 
 to keep you all my own. Take care that I do not warn 
 your husband." 
 
 " Do so, if you like." 
 
 " He would kill Louis." 
 
 " It would be against you he would turn as a slanderer." 
 
 She moved away from him, then went on — 
 
 " But do go away, you are simply tiring me. You have 
 decidedly changed for the worse. A year ago, you would 
 not have talked so ridiculously." 
 
 Tears of mingled rage and humiliation flowed from Lere- 
 boulley's eyes, tears which were at once dried by his bum- 
 
WILL. 337 
 
 ing cheeks. He shook his large shoulders, and said iu a 
 choking voice — 
 
 " Then good-bye, Diana." 
 
 He paused before Louis, who had not assisted at this 
 scene unmoved, and nodding his huge head — 
 
 " And as for you, I'll make you pay for this." 
 
 He went out of the room, and, as soon as he had gone, 
 Louis and Lady -Olifaunt drew close to one another. Then 
 taking the young man's hand and pressing it in her own, 
 as if in conclusion of a compact — 
 
 " You have talked to me of the sacrifices you have made 
 for my sake," said Diana, " but I think you wUl own now 
 that mine are equal to yours." 
 
 He would have spoken, but she closed his mouth with 
 her white hand, and with a bewitching smile — 
 
 " Love me. That is all I ask in return.'' 
 
 Then they left the room, and found themselves again 
 amidst the noise and animation of the ball. 
 
 From that day, Louis lived in a state of mental and 
 moral agitation such as he had never experienced before. 
 He wished to be a worthy successor to Lereboulley, and he 
 was as lavish as ever the senator could have been. His 
 vanity was matched against Diana's wants, the result being 
 a struggle in which gold flowed more freely than blood upon 
 a field of battle, and he soon saw that his fortune must ere 
 long be exhausted. Lereboulley's financial transactions 
 formed a reservoir which the senator would never drain 
 dry ; why should not he, Louis, have a similar supply at 
 his command 1 There had been nothing to stand in the 
 way so far but his own indolence, and the need in which 
 he now stood of procuring large sums overcoming his sloth, 
 
 Y 
 
338 WILL. 
 
 for the first time in his life he began to work really hard. 
 His vice gave him courage, and, as he was not a fool, at 
 first he was successful in his operations. 
 
 But his gains on the Stock Exchange seemed to him too 
 uncertain. His luck might turn, and the happy results 
 of to-day be counterbalanced by the bad results of to- 
 morrow, so he sought and discovered a more trustworthy 
 lever with which to raise his fortunes. The submarine 
 cable project was on the eve of being carried out. The 
 application for shares had been tremendous, and already 
 the financial world was bestowing its attention on the 
 floating of the important scheme. The whole of Europe 
 was interested in the result, for, owing to the competition, 
 the tariff for messages would most probably be lowered to 
 half the existing price, and thus trade would be very largely 
 benefited by the facilities created by the new company. 
 England was very hostile to the plan, and her Government 
 .had officially intervened, through her ambassador at Paris, 
 while the English seemed disposed to take up a large 
 number of the shares, so as to have the upper hand in the 
 management of the company, but Lereboulley took care that 
 so many of the shares should be held by himself and his 
 friends that the influence of the French shareholders vrould 
 predominate. Under these circumstances there was bound 
 to be a rig in the shares as soon as the bill for the laying 
 of the cable had been passed by Parliament, and there 
 seemed likely to be no difficulty about that, for Lereboulley 
 had said he would introduce it, and his political friends 
 being in the majority, both in the Chamber and in the 
 Senate, all ought to go as smoothly as possible. Besides, 
 the project was a straightforward, advantageous, and essen- 
 tially patriotic one. 
 
WILL. 339 
 
 It was on this commercial operation, with all the ins 
 and outs of which he was thoroughly acquainted, that Louis 
 proposed to speculate to such an extent as to make by the 
 one transaction a sum large enough to enable him to make 
 a generous provision for Diana's needs. Each week he saw 
 LerebouUey at the preparatory meetings, but the senator 
 always carefully avoided him, and though they acknow- 
 ledged each other on arriving, they did not speak. 
 
 One day Thauziat took Louis aside and said to him — 
 
 " LerebouUey wants you out of this business ; he says 
 he finds it extremely unpleasant to be continually meeting 
 you, and he has asked me to propose an arrangement to 
 you by which you are to forego the manufacture of the 
 cable and to receive twelve hundred thousand francs as 
 indemnity for the trouble you have already been put to, 
 The work is not yet begun, the whole affair hardly com- 
 menced. Think it over." 
 
 "There is nothing to think over. I refuse. Does 
 LerebouUey think he can do as he Ukes with me 1 
 I should be losing a large profit. The manufacture of 
 the cable is mine by agreement, and I am to be paid for it 
 partly in money, partly in shares. It means a fortune 
 to me. My father had anticipated this speculation, for it 
 is now nearly ten years since the scheme was first thought 
 of, and I am not going to give up aU that has been done 
 by my firm for twelve hundred thousand francs. The 
 senator's got a cheek, upon my word ! " 
 
 " Do you want more ? " 
 
 " I want nothing but my rightful share." 
 
 " You are foolish ; he will put many difficulties in your 
 way." 
 
340 WILL. 
 
 " What difficulties ? " 
 
 ' Oh, all sorts. He will pretend that the work is being 
 badly done, he will give you the shortest time possible in 
 which to complete it, will make you behind-hand with 
 it, and then you will find yourself involved in law suits. 
 He is very sharp, and he simply abominates you. Why 
 the devil did you take Diana from him ? I warned you — " 
 
 " She is the prettiest woman in Paris." 
 
 " The prettiest woman in Paris you have in your own 
 home — Madame H6rault. But will you not come to some 
 arrangement 1 " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Then beware, for you will have no mercy shown you." 
 
 " I have no fear." 
 
 " So much the better. In any case, remember that I 
 tried to open your eyes, and do not ever reproach me for 
 what may happen." 
 
 " Good gracious, you are quite tragic ! We are discuss- 
 ing business not war, nobody's going to be killed." 
 
 " I hope not." 
 
 Then Thauziat changed his tone, and becoming^as gay 
 as he had just been serious — 
 
 " Well, and what are you making of Sir James 1 " 
 
 Louis began to laugh. 
 
 " Oh, only what he is accustomed to being." 
 
 " Do you play cards with him ? " 
 
 " No, he is too lucky." 
 
 " Then he must miss LerebouUey a good deal." 
 
 " I think LerebouUey misses Sir James a good deal more 
 than Sir James misses LerebouUey. The husband formed 
 the most agreeable part of his liaison with the wife. What 
 
WILL. 341 
 
 a pity that these two beings, who were made for each other 
 in spite of their apparent want of union, should have been 
 separated ! Shall we reconcile them again 1 I would 
 rather drop Diana than the cable ! " 
 
 " Are you speaking seriously 1 " exclaimed Thauziat, 
 closely watching his friend. 
 
 "No, I am joking," answered Louis, becoming very 
 grave again. 
 
 " So much the worse." And with that they parted. 
 
 Whatever he had said, Louis was not joking when he 
 spoke of " dropping " Diana. If she had not held him by 
 his vanity, which was the chief trait in his character, it is 
 not unlikely that he would have already found the yoke 
 she imposed upon him too heavy for his weakly shoulders, 
 and, changeable and inconstant as a woman, would soon 
 have become tired of the double life he was forced to lead. 
 It is true he did not stand in any fear of either scenes or 
 reproaches from his family. Old Madame H6rault was 
 ignorant of the sad truth, for H616ne would have died 
 rather than let the old woman know what was going on, 
 and, as for herself, never since the explanation which had 
 taken place before the Olifaunts' ball, had she uttered a 
 word to Louis which could have been construed into a 
 remonstrance or complaint. Never was a woman with a 
 husband so wanting in courage and dignity so noble and so 
 proud. If she wept, it was in secret and in the silence of 
 the night. She was only twenty-five, she was beautiful 
 and charming, and she was forsaken. But she did not 
 pose as a victim, she did not draw attention to her sorrow, 
 she did not call God or man as witness to her grief. For 
 all revenge she contented herself with being sweeter, 
 
342 WILL. 
 
 gentler, more charming than she had ever been before, 
 and to the curious, mocking gaze of the world she presented 
 so calm and quiet an appearance that many people began 
 to doubt her misfortune. 
 
 But those who knew that Louis was sacrificing H61fene 
 to Lady Olifaunt, felt their sympathy for the young wife 
 increased tenfold. By dint of her severity she had disarmed 
 ridicule and turned her trouble into a kind of apotheosis, 
 and she was looked upon as a martyr, smiling radiantly 
 amidst her suffering, and boldly confessing her faith what- 
 ever torture she might have to endure as the result. 
 
 Diana, on the other hand, was falling as her rival was 
 rising in people's opinion. Maintained in society as she 
 had been by Lereboulley's influence still more than by the 
 prestige of her beauty, the Englishwoman realised as soon 
 as the senator was away from her how useful he had been. 
 But she was noteasily dismayed. She had risen from too 
 low a sphere for any position not to seem high to her, and 
 she was sure of always having beneath her hand a power 
 which nothing resists, viz., an immense fortune. 
 
 To occupy her leisure time and to get still more out of 
 Louis, she had taken it into her head to speculate in build- 
 ing, and, having bought a large amount of ground in the 
 vicinity of the Champs-Elys6es, she proceeded to raise 
 houses on it. Louis had made all agreements with the 
 builders, and the ground being Diana's and the houses his, 
 the speculation seemed very likely to turn out a good one. 
 At any rate it had these advantages about it, that he did 
 not see the gold he showered upon his love wasted in 
 things of which' she tired in a day, and that he knew he 
 was enriching in the most lavish way the woman towards 
 
WILL. 343 
 
 whom LerebouUey had played the part of a vain and 
 ostentatious Jupiter. 
 
 But there was this drawback, that, having concluded the 
 bargains, H6raalt had to face the necessity of paying away 
 considerable sums at fixed periods, and for some time now 
 he had found the greatest difiiculty in procuring the money 
 he needed. The companies in which LerebouUey was con- 
 cerned and in which he — Louis — had taken his father's 
 shares, were dull and drooping. It was almost as if some 
 secret influence were keeping them down, and that the man 
 who generally knew so well how to make the very best of 
 them was wilfully neglecting them. There was no longer 
 any benefit to be derived from them, the dividends were 
 decreasing, and they yielded hardly interest on the money 
 invested. 
 
 Louis, irritated by this state of stagnation, sold a large 
 number of the shares he held, and at once, as if by enchant- 
 ment, every one of the things he had got out of sprang into 
 life again and resumed their old activity, wiile the dividends 
 again became what they had been during the years of pros- 
 perity. Louis was forced to yield to this evidence and to 
 own to himself that LerebouUey was carrying on against 
 him a deliberately-planned campaign, for everything in 
 which they were both interested fell and did not rise again 
 until the senator had made his rival sell out, and thus 
 Thauziat's warnings were being justified. 
 
 Instead of making Louis reflect, this systematic hostility 
 only exasperated him, and even if he had not been already 
 bound to Diana by the strong chains of pleasure, he would 
 have attached himself to her out of sheer hatred for 
 LerebouUey. The struggle between the two men was 
 violent on both sides, but there could be no doubt of the 
 
ii WILL. 
 
 esult, and Louis was as foolish to fight the senator as 
 TOuld be a dwarf to dream of attacking a giant. This 
 3roliath was too strong for the David, and, besides, Diana 
 vas there to cut the cords of his sling. 
 
 Lying in ambush in the midst of all these intrigues like a 
 pider in the centre of its web. Lady OUfaunt watched Louis 
 md awaited the moment when he would fall never to rise 
 -gain. Very cunningly had she crossed and recrossed the 
 breads of her snare so as to embarrass the progress of him 
 if whom she ought to have been the loyal ally, but of whom 
 he was the secret enemy, and thus she was satisfying at one 
 md the same time the rancour she bore the man who had 
 lisdained and humiliated her when she had loved him, and 
 ler hatred for the woman who had deprived her of him 
 vhom she had honoured by her capricious favour. By 
 itriking one she wounded the other, and thus" her work of 
 nalice was two-edged. 
 
 What redoubled her fury was H61fene's perfect stoicism. 
 !f Madame H6rault had wept and moaned and displayed a 
 lature which was weak. Lady Olifaunt would have ceased 
 io molest her in disdain. But the young wife's face was 
 luperb in its tranquillity, and as she shielded herself behind 
 ler maternity with triumphant pride, it was as if she had 
 laid, '' You have taken my husband from me, but you can- 
 lot rob me of my child. Your love is intoxicating, but it 
 s barren. You have tasted nearly every joy, but there is 
 )ne which will be unknown to you — the pure divine love 
 iifhich springs to life within a mother's heart." 
 
 Often, as she drove down the Champs Elys6es in her 
 luperb equipage, did Diana meet Madame Hdrault in her 
 juiet carriage, and not once did the wife lower her eyes. 
 
WILL. 345 
 
 She had beside her her son, who could walk now, and whom 
 she was taking to play in the Bois ; and Lady Olifaunt, who 
 had deprived her of everything — happiness in the present 
 and safety for the future — longed sometimes to throw her- 
 self upon her rival and destroy her beauty. For never had 
 H61^ne been so beautiful as at this time. The slightly 
 haughty expression of her face had given place to one more 
 gentle. Her eyes were liquid with melancholy tenderness, 
 and her firmly-cut mouth had relaxed the rigidity of its 
 lines to wreath itself into loving curves. The mother had 
 become more smiling for her child, and it made the woman 
 irresistibly fascinating. 
 
 Sometimes, when he dined with his grandmother and his 
 wife, Louis stayed in the drawing-room with them after- 
 wards as in the time when he had first begun to love 
 H616ne, and would seat himself in silence by the fire- 
 place, looking vaguely around him, as if he hardly knew 
 where he was. The somewhat solemn look of the vast room 
 was a change to him after Lady Olifaunt's knick-knack 
 crowded house. He found himself in an atmosphere of 
 peacefulness, he breathed an air which was pure, he felt 
 himself surrounded by a stillness which rested him after 
 the hurry of his business, the anxieties of his speculations, 
 and the enervation of his devouring passion. 
 
 One evening, H61fene, seating herself at the piano, ab- 
 sently turned over the leaves of a book of old melodies, and 
 sang with exquisite feeling, though her voice was not very 
 strong, the well-known ballad, " Portrait charmant, portrait 
 de mon amie." Louis, as he lay back in his arm-chair, did 
 not stir, but when old Madame H6rault, to whom the old- 
 fashioned airs recalled her youth, saw H^lfene preparing to 
 
346 WILL. 
 
 close the piano, she slipped her long knitting-needles behind 
 her ear and clapping her hands, cried, " Encore ! " 
 
 Hdlfene smiled, resumed her seat and commenced the air, 
 " Plaisir d'ammj/r ne dure gu'im moment." She had not chosen 
 it intentionally, the book had opened at that place, and she 
 had sung the first thing she saw, but she put into her voice 
 a passionate accent of pain ■which seemed to come straight 
 from her heart. As the last chords died away in silence, 
 she rose from her seat with a sigh, and close behind her she 
 saw Louis, his head lying back on the arm-chair, and the 
 tears running down his pale cheeks. She turned quickly 
 to him under the sway of an impulse she could not resist, 
 and, taking his hand in hers, said, in tones full of the 
 compassion with which her heart was overflowing — 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 His lips moved as if he were going to speak, then with 
 an irritated gesture he rose, saying — 
 
 " I am a little nervous this evening. I will go out, I 
 think. Good-night ! " And he went out of the room. 
 
 The two women went on with their work as if nothing 
 had happened, but H6lfene did not feel quite so sad as 
 before, for it seemed to her as if some of the evil in Louis' 
 heart had just been washed away by his tears. If she had 
 only known with what anxieties his heart was at that time 
 being racked she would have forgiven him all the suffering 
 he had caused her. 
 
 A few days later a corner of the veil which hid the pre- 
 parations for the last episode of the battle she was fighting 
 was raised. One morning, Emilie, who was within the 
 enemy's camp, said to her friend — 
 
 " Is it long since Madame H6rault gave your husband 
 a power of attorney 1 " 
 
WILL. 3i7 
 
 " I don't know. Why?" 
 
 " Because he has just mortgaged the property she pos- 
 sesses for two millions, and has sold a large number of the 
 railway shares." 
 
 " Well, he has the right to do as he thinks best. He has 
 the management of it all." 
 
 " He has no right to ruin his grandmother, while she is 
 in perfect ignorance of what is going on, and to let her run 
 the risk of being turned out of her own house at her age by 
 a mortgagee. I know what I am talking about. Your 
 husband is simply mad, he is doing his very best to get 
 ruined as fast as he can, and he will bring you all to want. 
 You ought to talk to him, and see if there is no way for 
 him to retrieve himself." 
 
 " I will never do that ! " exclaimed H616ne decidedly. 
 " For his moral welfare I will do all that lies within my 
 power, but in nothing else will I interfere. When I am 
 thinking of nothing but my shattered happiness, shall I ap- 
 peal? to be worried by monetary cares ? Shall I expose myself 
 to an offer from Louis to ensure our fortune, when I would 
 give my life to obtain from him pledges of repentance 1 No, 
 I will never consent to such a thing. I came into this 
 house poor, what does it matter if I go out of it poor ? " 
 
 She paused for a moment, then continued — 
 
 " Besides, I hate this money, which is the cause of all my 
 sorrows. If Louis is ruined he will be compelled to become 
 steady and hard-working again, and God knows that if by 
 poverty he is restored to me, I shall bless poverty ! " 
 
 Emilie looked at the young wife with admiring eyes, then 
 she answered, shaking her head — 
 
 " Ah, if you were dealing with a man worthy the name. 
 
348 WILL. 
 
 you might hope for anything. But all the courage will be 
 on your side. Louis, when he finds himself at the end of 
 his resources, will do something rash. He may allow Lady 
 Olifaunt to carry him off — " 
 
 " I shall find the way to win him from her." 
 " And supposing that, instead of carrying him off, she 
 throws him over, and that in a moment of discourage- 
 ment — " 
 
 H61fene turned pale, but she answered resolutely — 
 " I shall read his intention in his eyes. He can hide 
 nothing from me." 
 
 " Beware. It is a terrible game you are playing." 
 " Can I act otherwise ? It was not I who began it, but 
 now that it is commenced, I will continue it to the end 
 without flinching. Heaven will not forsake me." 
 
 As Emilie had said, Louis' position was becoming very 
 critical. The net in which he was struggling was being 
 drawn tighter and tighter week by week, and, simply 
 exasperated by the resistance with which all his efforts 
 were met, he persisted in the course he had chosen with the 
 obstinacy of a gambler. 
 
 For a moment Thauziat felt pity for him and tried to 
 soften LerebouUey, but the senator's animosity was such 
 that he would not even listen to the man who, now Diana- 
 was no longer the favourite, was the only person who had 
 any real influence over him. He fell into a rage, and 
 exclaimed with a violence which was not habitual to him — 
 "How absurd you are to come and talk to me in his 
 favour after what he has done to you ! Why don't you 
 revenge yourself instead 1 Or rather leave me to myself, 
 and I will undertake to give my fine fellow such a lesson 
 
WILL. S49 
 
 that we shall never hear of him again. And, parhleu ! it 
 ■will not be a disagreeable task to console his wife when she 
 is deserted or a widow. She has had. so much to put up 
 with that she won't be very exacting." 
 
 To this Thauziat made no reply — he was already more 
 than half gained over to the bad cause which was to place 
 H61fene in his arms, and, as LerebouUey had advised him, 
 he let things alone, although his wishes would have had 
 sufficient weight even then to re-establish the equilibrium 
 and so save Louis. 
 
 His disaffection and moral infirmity were a great trial to 
 Emilie. She could not bear to see the man she had always 
 thought superior to other men thus lowering himself, and 
 she determined to speak to him about it. To this end she 
 said to him one evening — 
 
 " Is it long since you saw Louis 1 " 
 
 He started, and answered — 
 
 " Yes, a long while." 
 
 " Then don't you go to Lady Olifaunt's now ?" 
 
 " Hardly ever ? " 
 
 " Did it make you too sad to see the poor boy ruining 
 himself ? " 
 
 He.said nothing, but fixed his searching eyes upon her. 
 
 " you got him out of a scrape once," Emilie continued, 
 " out of friendship for me ; and if you chose you can do 
 the same again now. One word from you would render 
 useless all my father's efforts. You have only to raise your 
 hand to stop the financial engines which are to crush the 
 poor fellow to atoms ; will you not do so 1 " 
 
 Still he said nothing. She placed her hand firmly upon 
 his shoulder and asked him — 
 
350 WILL. 
 
 "Thauziat, are you no longer the honourable man 1 
 loved?" 
 
 With a terrible laugh he presented to her gaze a face 
 upon which could be traced the violence of the passions 
 which were rending his heart. 
 
 " No ! I am no longer that man ! " 
 " And what has so quickly changed you 1 " 
 " My love for a woman ! I have had enough of enduring 
 pain simply to remain faithful to ideas of honour that I 
 alone respect. Because Louis has robbed me of her. I 
 love, I suppose he ought to be sacred to me. That is the 
 chivalrous maxim you are quoting in his favour, I believe 1 
 I ought to be ready to give my heart's blood to protect and 
 save him, since it was his hand that dealt the blow which 
 causes me such cruel suffering. You tell me he is my 
 friend, almost my brother, and that I am betraying and 
 deserting him, that I am pushing him to the edge of a 
 precipice, and so I am base and dishonourable ! But what 
 is he 1 He calls this woman, for whose loss I can find no 
 consolation, his, and he is false to her. He is indeed a 
 loyal husband, and others ought truly to be loyal to him ! 
 He has an adorable child who ought to be the delight of 
 his life and the hope of his future, and he is doing his best 
 to ruin him for the sake of a woman who is a disgrace to 
 her sex. Isn't it affecting to see such a loving father 1 He 
 Jeserves to be protected from himself ! He has had every 
 chance of happiness, and of his own free-will he has thrown 
 it all away. He has failed in all his duties, he has had 
 neither respect for the mother nor affection for the child. 
 And am I bound to show him the consideration he has 
 never shown to others 1 No, his vices must be his shield, 
 
WILL. 351 
 
 and he must find protection in his follies ! Because he is 
 threatened with destruction by his own fault, I ought to 
 rescue him from peril ? What nonsense ! I should be 
 foolish to attempt it and insincere as well. Let him fall, 
 since he has been neither wise enough to avoid the fight 
 nor brave enough to come off victorious ! " 
 
 As he spoke, his passion had risen and his broad fore- 
 head had become crimson. His eyes flashed sombre fire 
 and his mouth curled in scathing irony. To Emilie he 
 seemed endued with a Satanic beauty, as he stood thus 
 casting off as a useless burden all that was human in his 
 heart and boldly glorifying deeds which should have made 
 his conscience rebel. 
 
 " Then you fight against him ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes ! " he cried, violently. 
 
 " Then, Thauziat, you will be vanquished. For he will 
 have to save him that which will have been your destruc- 
 tion — a woman's love." 
 
 " "We shall see." 
 
 Still Emilie did not regard herself as beaten, and, having 
 failed in her endeavours with Helene and with Thauziat, 
 she turned to Louis. 
 
 " You know," she said to him, " that I am not a woman 
 to be frightened at nothing, but the way you are going on 
 simply terrifies me. You are walking with no balancing-pole 
 upon a golden wire. You will fall and break your neck." 
 
 " Oh, no," he replied, gaily ; " I do not risk anything 
 now. I expect everything from the big affair your father is 
 going to bring off, and that must be safe, for surely you 
 would not go so far as to think he would make it come to 
 nothing simply to serve me a bad turn." 
 
352 WILL. 
 
 " I don't know anything about it, and I am not trying to 
 find out what is possible and what is not, but I do entreat 
 you to confine yourself to the industrial part of the business. 
 Don't speculate on a rise of the shares. Who knows what 
 may happen ? " 
 
 " Well, I know that a banker would never amuse himself 
 by ruining a rival, an adversary, an enemy if you like, if it 
 meant his own ruin at the same time. Your father has an 
 enormous amount of money in this cable scheme." 
 
 " Can one ever tell what he has or what he has not ? 
 Anyway he has an immense amount of power and he hates 
 you cordially, so be on your guard."' 
 
 " Thanks ; but don't worry yourself about me, there is no 
 cause for fear." 
 
 There did indeed seem nothing to fear. The bill for the 
 laying of the cable passed through the Chambre without the 
 slightest opposition, and Louis was now only awaiting the 
 Senate's vote to buy up all the shares he could and thus 
 amass in a , few days the capital of which he stood in such 
 pressing need. He had been able to put off with a little 
 ready money the contractors who were building the man- 
 sions in the Champs-Ely s6es quarter, and the houses were 
 slowly rising, storey by storey. 
 
 Sir James, who had acquired a sudden passion for stone 
 in its rough state and now passed all his time in stone- 
 yards, was continually worrying H^rault, whom he called 
 " my partner," with demands for money for building pur- 
 poses. The extraordinary baronet might be seen mounting 
 ladders and seating himself on scaffoldings to talk to the 
 foremen, and he subordinated everything else to the com- 
 pletion of Diana's houses. He forgot curiosity sales, and 
 
WILL. 353 
 
 the H6tel Drouot, for in his eyes now the immense blocks 
 of stone were things much more precious, much more im- 
 portant than pdte-tendre Sfevres or Japanese carved ivory. 
 In his irritation — for he could not meet the requirements 
 of his own builders — Louis constantly met Sir James' 
 demands with abrupt refusals, but he never succeeded in 
 wearying or offending Diana's husband, who after a scene 
 of the kind only assumed the air of a man who finds his 
 confidence misplaced, and merely passed whole evenings 
 without uttering a word. This would, on the whole, have 
 been something to be thankful for had not Lady Olifaunt 
 taken up the cudgels in Sir James' defence and worried 
 Louis with tender reproaches. 
 
 One evening, tired of this squabbling and wishing to re- 
 assure Sir James and his wife, who seemed to have doubts 
 about him, he was imprudent enough to explain to Sir 
 James the plan he had based upon the issuing of the 
 cable shares. Diana expressed her approval and her hus- 
 band blindly followed suit, but by an unhappy fate the 
 next day, as the Englishman was crossing the Champs- 
 Elys6es on his way to the stone-yard, he met Lereboulley. 
 He had already several times expressed his regret to the 
 senator at no longer seeing him at the Avenue Gabriel, and 
 Lereboulley had replied with some bitterness, that as Lady 
 Olifaunt no longer honoured him with her trust, he was 
 too deeply hurt to visit her. Now, whenever the two men 
 met, the one spoke of Diana and the other of the progress 
 of the buildings, so forming an odd duologue at the conclu- 
 sion of which they were both agreed that Louis H6rault had 
 not sufficient wealth at his back to finish the erection of the 
 houses, but that Diana ran no risk as the ground was hers. 
 
 Z 
 
354 WILL. 
 
 On this particular day LerebouUey commenced to speak 
 about the building of his own accord, and Sir James at 
 once launched out into a lot of technical explanations about 
 the state of advancement the houses had reached. 
 
 " Yes, but how about the payments 1 " said the senator. 
 " How are they getting on 1 " 
 
 "Monsieur H6rault will settle all the accounts very 
 shortly. He is about to commence an operation from 
 which he expects great results." 
 
 " Ah ? " said LerebouUey, pricking up his ears, for he 
 had noticed with annoyance that for the last few weeks 
 Louis had given up speculating. 
 
 " Yea. He is only waiting for the issuing of the cable 
 shares." 
 
 " He is very sensible," answered the senator, while his 
 voice trembled, he was so agitated. " It will be a good 
 speculation," and pressing Sir James' hand, he hurried away 
 in the direction of the boulevards. 
 
 Thus, he had been informed of Louis' projects by the in- 
 discretion of the very man who had so great an interest in 
 their success, and as he walked he pondered deeply. His 
 enemy would soon be at his mercy, for though he did not 
 yet know exactly how he would strike the blow, yet that it 
 should be struck he was fully determined. This would be 
 the last engagement of the war that was being waged, and 
 must be decisive. The following day LerebouUey was to 
 speak in the Senate to ask for a vote in accordance 
 with that which the Chamber had already given, but for a 
 moment he thought of putting off the conclusion of the 
 subject by asking for the reading of the Bill to be deferred 
 for a month. Thus he would be prolonging Louis' finan- 
 
WILL. 355 
 
 cial embarrassment, and there would be the chance of seeing 
 him succumb beneath the burden he had taken upon his 
 shoulders. But this result, obtained by a waste of time and 
 indirect means, did not seem to the senator a sufficiently 
 crushing punishment. He wished to deal a quick straight 
 blow which would lay his victim helpless at his feet. He 
 longed so intensely for the pleasure of gloating over his 
 rival's agony that he had not enough patience to wait any 
 longer, and in his inventive mind another plan began to 
 evolve itself — a plan simple of execution, terrible if it suc- 
 ceeded. And it was impossible for it to be anything but 
 successful. The senator went into the Stock Exchange, 
 talked for a few moments with some brokers, then went 
 to his offices. 
 
 If the zeal with which LerebouUey was preparing the 
 denouement of the crisis was great, the anxiety with which 
 Louis awaited it was greater still. He was staking 
 his all upon a single card. If he won, he would be well 
 afloat again and had nothing further to fear. If he lost, 
 he would sink to the bottom like a stone, without the 
 slightest hope of rescue. Of all his wealth, there only now 
 remained the little belonging to his grandmother, the estate 
 at Boissise, which cost money instead of bringing any in, 
 and the money which had been settled on H616ne, and 
 which was to go to the child. But he did not hesitate 
 about playing the card, for he was involved to such a 
 degree that he could not possibly get out of his difficulties 
 any other way. If he ceased to pay the builders when 
 their work was half-finished, he would see the houses, 
 which had cost so dear, sold for next to nothing, and all 
 he had placed in the enterprise would be lost. If he 
 
356 WILL. 
 
 risked the speculation he might be successful, and all would 
 be saved. 
 
 The afternoon the question was to be opened before the 
 Senate Louis was at Lady Olifaunt's house. They were 
 talking business, for when the fascinating Diana was not 
 resting her eyes and refreshing her complexion by slumber, 
 she was always ready to employ her thoughts on serious 
 matters. Suddenly Sir James rushed into his wife's room 
 without even sending in first to say he was at home — a sign 
 with him of immense excitement — crying : 
 
 " The Senate has voted. Lereboulley was simply won- 
 derful!" 
 
 " Were you at the debate, then 1 " 
 
 " Yes, I had an opportunity of being present, so, as I 
 was interested, I gave up the houses for a day. Lere- 
 bonlley's speech has made quite a sensation. He has made 
 the Government grant a subsidy to the company, and he 
 received a tremendous amount of applause for his patriotic 
 sentiments. His success pleased me intensely — " 
 
 He stopped abruptly, perceiving that his praise of Lere- 
 boulley had caused a constrained silence, but he was not a 
 man to waive any of his opinions merely to be agreeable to 
 his wife's friends, and with a surly look he withdrew. Then 
 Diana rose from the couch on which she had been lying, 
 and putting her arms round Louis' neck — 
 
 " Then it is quite decided 1 We risk the speculation 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And when will it come off 1 " 
 
 "As soon as the shares make the slightest movement 
 
 They remained together an hour, and whoever had seen 
 
WILL. 867 
 
 tliem in their youth and beauty, pressed close to one 
 another, hand in hand, eyes looking into eyes, would have 
 said — " Those two worship each other, and can talk of 
 nothing but their love." But if the same spectator had 
 listened, the words, " brokerage," " premium," " carrjring 
 over," would have fallen on his ear, for these lovers were 
 talking like two stockbrokers, and their one thought was 
 not how best to prove their love, but how to make money. 
 And it was for this that Louis had been false to H61fene ! 
 
 At the end of the week great yellow bills placarded all 
 over Paris announced the issuing of the shares of the sub- 
 marine cable, and the financial journals tried to outdo each 
 other in extolling the enterprise. The press spoke well of 
 it, and everyone said — " It is not in the hands of ordinary 
 company-promoters, but of good, sound business men, and 
 LerebouUey's name is guarantee enough for the public." 
 
 During that week Louis was feverishly nervous and 
 anxious. He either spoke with great volubility or was 
 profoundly silent, absorbed in serious calculations. One 
 morning, without any previous intimation of his determina- 
 tion, he told his grandmother and his wife at lunch that he 
 was going to England, aud he started that very evening, 
 having first begged his family not to reveal his destination 
 to anyone whatever. The reason for his journey was very 
 simple. As he did not dare give all his commissions to the 
 Paris brokers for fear of calling attention to his project, 
 and did not wish to telegraph to London, he determined 
 to go thither himself. According to his theory, English 
 speculators would quickly seize on the stock and send it 
 up, and he intended to aid their intention with his own 
 bold plunge. 
 
358 WILL. 
 
 He had been gone four days when Emilia, looking in the 
 evening paper for the account of an exhibition of paintings, 
 came upon the following paragraph : — 
 
 "It is stated upon good authority that a company now 
 being promoted, and at the head of which is to be placed 
 one of our greatest men in financial and political circles, is 
 the object of such important manoeuvring on the part of a 
 few English speculators, that the members of the Chamber 
 intend to obtain the withdrawal of the subsidy granted by 
 the State. France, who has been already sufficiently duped 
 at Suez, is not rich enough to subsidise enterprises destined 
 to enrich capitalists on the other side of the Channel." 
 
 And two lines lower — 
 
 " It is announced that Monsieur LerebouUey is about to 
 leave for Eome. The great financier goes to arrange the 
 conditions with the Italian Government of a loan neces- 
 sitated by the extension of that country's colonial policy." 
 
 It was all quite clear. By means of the first paragraph 
 the confidence of shareholders in the prosperity of the cable 
 company — for that was the one that was undoubtedly in 
 question — was to be shaken ; and, in the second, proof was 
 given that LerebouUey had abandoned all interest in the 
 affair, since he chose the very hour of the allotment of the 
 shares to go to Italy. - 
 
 Dismayed and startled, Emilie sought the money article, 
 and the words that first attracted her attention, as if they 
 had been printed in glittering letters, were — " Fall of a 
 Hundred Francs in Submarine Cable Shares." In a second, 
 as by a strange intuition, she felt sure that Louis had 
 speculated on the rise of the new stock, and that the fall — 
 of which she saw at once the cause and effect — was intended 
 
WILL. 359 
 
 to ruin him. She hastened to her father's study^ deter- 
 mined to question and entreat him and to make use of the 
 decided influence she possessed over him. But she could 
 not find him — he had gone out, and would not be in to 
 dinner. 
 
 Then she ordered her carriage, and drove to the 
 Hdraults'. There they were in ignorance of everything. 
 They had only received a letter from Louis containing 
 good news, and announcing his return for the morrow. 
 Mademoiselle LerebouUey would not risk frightening 
 H61fene for nothing by leading her to fear a catastrophe she 
 could not ward off, so she controlled herself and went 
 away without revealing anything. 
 
 The next morning she went to her father's room, where 
 she found the senator just shaved and seated at a little 
 table (on which was laid a breakfast service in silver-gilt) 
 drinking a cup of tea before going to Eue Le Peletier. As 
 his daughter entered the room he rose, and his plump face 
 brightened. 
 
 " What, is it you 1 " he exclaimed, drawing her to him 
 to kiss her. " What has happened ? You do not generally 
 assist at mj petit lever.'' 
 
 Any other morning Emilie would have put on her 
 quizzing air, and replied—" Oh, but, papa, you know your 
 petit lever does not often take place at home ! " But to-day 
 she was in no mood for jesting, and going straight to the ' 
 subject of her trouble, she replied — 
 
 " What has happened 1 That is what I want you to tell 
 me. I see that the shares of the cable company, which 
 should have been at a premium, have fallen a hundred 
 francs. What does it mean 1 " 
 
360 WILL. 
 
 The senator quickly slipped off his dressing-gown and put 
 on his coat. Then, turning to his daughter with a smile — 
 
 "What, are you actually asking me about Stock Ex- 
 change business? How can it possibly interest you, my 
 dear child 1 Take my advice, dear, and confine yourself to 
 domestic affairs ; it will be much better for you." 
 
 " But do tell me the reason of this unexpected drop." 
 
 " Oh, it's some syndicate bearing the shares, or something 
 of that sort. Nothing of any importance." 
 
 " And the articles in the papers in which it is given to 
 understand that you have given up the whole affair t " 
 
 " Absurd rubbish, like most of the tales published in the 
 papers. The truth will come to light, and the shares will 
 go up to the price they ought to stand at." 
 
 " But, in the meantime, the fall will have ruined some t " 
 
 " Ruined ! Well, how can that be helped 1 It is the result 
 of battles on the Stock Exchange, as wounds and death are 
 the results of battles on the field. W^oe to the vanquished ! 
 That is the order of the day in aU warfare." 
 
 Emilie drew near to her father, then said very gravely — 
 
 " Can you give me your word of honour that Louis 
 H6rault is not among the vanquished 1 " 
 
 In a second an expression came over LerebouUey's face 
 which terrified his daughter, and with a roughness he had 
 never used to her before, he cried — 
 
 " Ah, ah, little daughter, you must have good eyesight 
 to see so clearly into what is going on ! You are anxious 
 about your friend, and you come to ask me for news of 
 him ? Well, then, he has been rash enough to attack me, 
 and I have broken his back as I will do to all those who try 
 to follow his example ! " 
 
WILL. 361 
 
 " And his mother, his wife, his child? " 
 
 "It was his place to think of them, not mine." 
 
 "Because he has hehaved ahominably, is that a reason 
 why others should do the same 1 " 
 
 " My child, you forget to whom you are speaking." 
 
 " Alas ! I wish I could ! " 
 
 At these words, so sadly uttered, LerebouUey turned 
 pale for they wounded him deeply. Then drawing Emilie 
 within his arms — 
 
 " Emilie, my child, let me beg of you not to take any 
 part in this quarrel, and not to judge me by appearances. 
 You know how I love you, and what you have just said has 
 gone to my heart. Do not let anything rise between us — 
 neither anger nor distrust. Keep out of all these in- 
 trigues, do not step into this mire; you wDl only defile 
 yourself in vain. I am not bad-hearted, as you know, and 
 I would not harm anyone in the world unless I had good 
 reason for doing so. But this Louis has behaved in a 
 shameful way to me ; he has affronted and humiliated me, 
 and has caused me one of the greatest sorrows which 
 could befall me. He is unworthy of the interest you take 
 in him. If you knew — but I can see that you do know, 
 and that it is not for him but for his family you are plead- 
 ing. Well, I will do whatever you like for them. They 
 are old friends as I shall not forget, and I promise you 1 
 will raise them up another fortune. But as for him, he 
 must feel my foot upon his neck. And he shall feel it— on 
 that I will stake my reputation." 
 
 He had taken his daughter on his knees and was kissing 
 and caressing her, but she was coldly and lucidly calculating 
 the weight of his words. 
 
362 WILL. 
 
 " But I am rich myself," she said, standing up. " I 
 inherited a considerable amount from my mother. I am 
 free and of age, and I can help Louis." 
 
 " Your help would be in vain," replied Lereboulley. 
 "He is caught, and caught too securely to be freed. It is 
 I who have sold all he has bought, and he must either pay 
 or turn bankrupt." 
 
 " But where is he 1 What is he doing 1 " cried Emilie 
 in despair. " If he should come to an extreme determina- 
 tion — if he should kill himself ! What remorse would be 
 ours ! " 
 
 "He? Kill himself?" cried Lereboulley, with a burst of 
 laughter. " Come, come ! You ask where he is ; can you 
 not guess ? When he returned from London yesterday he 
 went straight to Lady Olifaunt's house, which he has 
 not yet left. That is whera he is." 
 
 Emilie's head drooped. Now she herself despaired oi 
 her cause. 
 
 " What can I do ? " she murmured. 
 
 " Try to get him back to his own home, and to make him 
 stay there in future." 
 
 But Emilie sighed, and went out of the room without 
 kissing her father. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 On his return from London in a state of numb torpor such 
 as no doubt annihilated Napoleon's moral strength when he 
 arrived at the Elys^e after the disastrous defeat at Waterloo, 
 Louis found Lady Olifaunt quite calm and bearing the blow 
 with a smiling philosophy which should have enlightened 
 him as to her true sentiments, had he not been perfectly 
 blind to her defects. Sir James also, as if he had 
 received some secret consolation, displayed a very singular 
 placidity, considering the anxiety he took in the interests 
 of the honest masons who were labouring to erect in good 
 hard stone a fortune for Diana. 
 
 Louis, who had expected to be met with transports of 
 despair and bitter recrimination, soon became calm and 
 collected again and able to study the situation. A heavy 
 liquidation lay before him which could mean nothing short 
 of ruin, but he might be able to preserve his honour intact. 
 He was already aware that, with a little help and by making 
 important reforms in his mode of life, he might again re- 
 cover himself, but the very first reform must be with regard 
 to Diana. Before everything else he must give up his 
 libertine existence and resign himself to living a steady life. 
 
 Lying back in an arm-chair before the fire-place of the 
 room which had been put ready for him at the Olifaunts', 
 he went over again in his mind all the incidents of the year 
 which had just passed away, and gradually he began to get 
 
864 WILL. 
 
 a true idea of his conduct. He saw the motives he had 
 obeyed, and found them mean and dishonourable— a pas- 
 sion exclusively sensual, vanity carried to extremes ; it was 
 for those that he had dissipated his fortune and compro- 
 mised the happiness of the beings nearest to him. 
 
 Suddenly those to whom he now acknowledged he had 
 behaved so badly presented themselves to his mind. He 
 saw them gathered together in the drawing-room' of their 
 home in the Faubourg Poissonike. His grandmother was 
 silently knitting. H61fene, looking very pale, was holding 
 little Pierre on her knees, and teaching him to talk. The 
 child, standing in his mother's lap, was following on her 
 lips the formation of the syllables, trying to repeat the 
 words as they were uttered and laughing and clapping his 
 little rosy hands. Louis fancied he could hear distinctly 
 the two voices — ^that of his wife, sad and low, his son's soft 
 and laughing, and both uttered but one word, always the 
 same, as if they wished to endue it with the force and 
 persistence of an appeal — 
 
 " Papa ! Papa ! " 
 
 He closed his eyes to shut out this picture which went to 
 his heart, but the murmur of the two voices still sounded 
 in his ears, and the gentle call became stUl more urgent, 
 more loving and imploring. At last H^rault rose from his 
 chair, and, as he looked around him, this room in this 
 strange house became hateful to him. He reproached him- 
 self for having come to see his mistress instead of hastening 
 to rejoin his wife, and, feeling as much disgust as if he had 
 suddenly found himself in a place of ill-fame, he took his 
 hat and went downstairs. 
 
 Hp found Lady Olifaunt in her dressing-room employed 
 
WILL. 365 
 
 in polishing her rosy nails with various instruments of ivory 
 and steel. She motioned Louis to a chair, and, without 
 interrupting her important occupation, 
 
 "Well," she said, "have you quite recovered yourself? 
 You really made me quite uneasy yesterday evening, you 
 were so discouraged." 
 
 " It was only natural that I should he," he replied with 
 a slight smile. 
 
 " Have you made up your mind what to do 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Have I any choice? You cannot for a moment 
 imagine that I shall take advantage of the non-recognition 
 by the law of gambling debts. The first thing will be 
 to pay all I owe, then I shall see what there is still left for 
 me to do." 
 
 " I know you too well to have had any doubts as to your 
 intentions, Louis dear, and it was not to your business 
 affairs that I was alluding. I have no doubt they can be 
 satisfactorily arranged, especially if you place yourself in the 
 hands of a sharp man." 
 
 " Maltre Talamon, my lawyer, is a young, pushing and 
 clever fellow, and a true friend as well. I shall give him 
 full power to act as he thinks best." 
 
 " That is all right. But all this must be Very painful to 
 you ; you will be so much talked about." 
 
 " It will be a just punishment for my folly," he inter- 
 rupted coldly. 
 
 Diana raised her eyes. The tone in which Louis had 
 just spoken betokened a totally, different course of ideas 
 and sentiment to those which were usual to him. 
 
366 WILL. 
 
 " Sir James and I are going away for a few weeks," she 
 said. " Will you come with us 1 " 
 
 " It would be impossible," he replied as coldly as before. 
 
 " Why 1 " asked Diana, drawing nearer to him, and bring- 
 ing all the fascination of her blue eyes to bear upon him. 
 
 " Because my position is completely changed, and I must 
 alter my habits in accordance with it." 
 
 She threw a coaxing tenderness into her manner, she 
 enveloped the young man with the intoxicating perfume 
 which exhaled from her body, and laying her golden head 
 caressingly upon his shoulder, she whispered in his ear — 
 
 " Do you not love me any longer ? If you like we will go 
 to Italy, to some blue lake, and there we shall forget all 
 except each other as we lie amidst the roses, beneath the 
 sun — " 
 
 " Impossible ! " he repeated. And as she wound her 
 arms still closer around him ; 
 
 " We must say good-bye, Diana," he said firmly. 
 
 She started from him, and watching him closely — 
 
 " Louis, what is the meaning of this ? Whence come 
 these new and sudden resolutions ? What have you heard f 
 What has happened 1 Is it thus you reward my devotion 1 " 
 
 " Such devotion, Diana, I ought no longer to accept. We 
 are forced to part. If I did not speak frankly to you, as I 
 am speaking, I should only be doing you a wrong. And I 
 have wronged others enough already," he added with a 
 gesture of sorrow. 
 
 " Ah ! what matter about others ! " exclaimed Diana 
 passionately. " Need we trouble about them 1" 
 
 " Yes," answered Louis, firmly ; " we need and we must 
 when I am about to ask of them the greatest sacrifices." 
 
WILL. 367 
 
 Lady Olifaunt's face assumed a threatening and malicious 
 expression. 
 
 " Of your grandmother, I suppose, and of your wife 1 
 Can you think of them when you are beside me ? " 
 
 " Can you reproach me for doing so when they are so 
 unhappy t " 
 
 He was forced to stop for he was choking with emotion. 
 Then— 
 
 " You are well aware of all they have already suffered 
 through me. All that they had left were the material 
 pleasures of existence, and now, by my fault, they are 
 about to be deprived of even those. If my presence can in 
 any way lessen their grief, I ought not to refuse them that, 
 at least. Diana," he went on in clearer tones, " I sacrificed 
 my wife to you when she was rich and independent, and 
 I behaved abominably in doing that, but if I did not 
 go back to her now she is about to be poor and dis- 
 dained, I should be the most cowardly and dishonourable 
 of men. I unquestionably owe her that reparation and 
 consolation." 
 
 The beautiful Englishwoman quivered as she listened, 
 for she saw that Louis was escaping her toils to return to 
 the woman she hated. The last blow she had dreamed of 
 dealing her rival had woefully miscarried — instead of 
 depriving her of her husband it was she herself who was 
 losing her lover. It was a thought she could not tolerate, 
 and with venomous ii'ony she retorted — 
 
 " The reparation she may not perhaps be thankful for, 
 and the consolation would certainly not be of any use. If 
 that is all which restrains you, you can decide to come 
 with me." 
 
368 WILL. 
 
 At these words Louis' face became livid, and seizing 
 Lady Olifaunt by the wrist — 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he cried. 
 
 " Only what everyone knows, you, naturally, excepted." 
 
 " You lie ! " And his grip upon her delicate arm 
 tightened until she gave a cry of pain. 
 
 Crimson with anger, she snatched her wrist free from 
 his grasp, and with the other hand struck him so fierce a 
 blow that he reeled. 
 
 " If it is so difl3.cult to convince you, I will show you her 
 with her lover." 
 
 " When 1 " 
 
 " This very evening." 
 
 " If you are deceiving me, beware ! " he exclaimed, with 
 a gesture of terrible menace. 
 
 " And if I have spoken the truth 1 " 
 
 " Then I shall have nothing to keep me here, and I will 
 follow you." 
 
 He turned towards the door ; he felt as though he were 
 suffocating. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " she asked, gently. 
 
 " To the club." 
 
 " You will not stay with me ? " 
 
 " No. Good-bye until this evening." 
 
 When the door had closed behind him. Lady Olifaunt 
 stood for a moment thinking,, her hand to her forehead. 
 Then a sardonic hiss came from between her teeth, and 
 aloud, as if in reply to her own thoughts, she said — 
 
 " It will be enough for him to see them together. If he 
 wishes for any explanations and allows his temper to rise, 
 Thauziat will bring him down like a pigeon." 
 
WILL. 369 
 
 She seated herself at her little Louis XV. escritoire, 
 opened it, wrote two notes, then rang the bell. 
 
 " See that these letters are taken immediately to their 
 addresses," she said to the maid who appeared, " and let 
 me know if they have been given to the people to whom 
 they are addressed." 
 
 At that moment Sir James came in. Lady Olifaunt 
 rose, smoothed down the pleats of her dress, examined for 
 a long time her fine, blue-veined forehead in the glass, 
 smiled at her own reflection, then turning to her husband — 
 
 "What a long time it is since we saw LerebouUey! 
 Perhaps I was not very amiable to him. You must call 
 in at Eue Le Peletier and give him an invitation to dinner 
 from me." 
 
 Sir James was delighted. 
 
 "At last you are becoming reasonable again," he said. 
 " Poor fellow, he will be so pleased. I will go at once.'' 
 
 And having kissed his wife's hand, off he went. 
 
 The inmates of the H6rault mansion were at last beginning 
 to feel great anxiety. For four days the life of H6lfene 
 and old Madame H6rault had been quiet and regular as 
 usual. Louis was away, but he would return at the end 
 of the week, and they tranquilly awaited his reappearance, 
 for, alas ! her husband's absence was no longer a cause of 
 sadness to his young wife, for he was more apart from her 
 when he was present in the house than he was at this 
 moment when miles of sea and land lay between them. 
 Emilie came to see them every day, and as time passed on, 
 she asked so persistently if they had received any news 
 of Louis, that H6lfene began to feel uneasy, and at last 
 questioned her friend. 
 
 2 A 
 
370 WILL. 
 
 • But Mademoiselle LerebouUey at once beat a retreat, and 
 no information was to be drawn from her. Still H6l6ne 
 could no longer doubt that something was going on of 
 which Emilie knew — it was only too plain. But what? 
 Was Lady Olifaunt Louis' travelling companion? Had 
 she made him give her a second edition in the Channel of 
 the cruise she had gone with LerebouUey through the 
 Mediterranean? "Was her husband's absence — which he 
 had told her would only last a few days — to be indefinitely 
 prolonged ? Had he promised never to return home ? 
 What was not to be feared from his weakness and Diana's 
 wickedness ? 
 
 But the terrible doubts which were torturing H61fene 
 were suddenly dispelled, though the truth was so startling 
 that perhaps it would have been better had she remained 
 in ignorance of it. 
 
 One morning old Madame H6rault abruptly entered 
 H61ene's room and dropped into an arm-chair. Her face 
 betrayed extreme agitation, her hands trembled, and she 
 had hurried upstairs so quickly that she could hardly draw 
 her breath. 
 
 " Good heavens ! what is the matter 1 " exclaime'd 
 H61ene, seized with a nameless fear. 
 
 The old lady gazed steadily at her daughter, as she called 
 her, then asked in trembling tones : 
 
 " Do you not know ? " 
 
 " Speak, speak ! I implore you. You are killing me — " 
 
 " Well, my child, Louis has ruined us ! " 
 
 H616ne breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment she had 
 feared something worse. 
 
 " Maltre Talamon, our lawyer, has just left. He hastened 
 
WILL. 371 
 
 here to inform me of some sales my grandson has lately 
 effected, and to tell me of some fresh orders he has received 
 by telegram. He thinks Louis must have gone mad, and 
 he advises me to withdraw the power of attorney I gave 
 him. What is the meaning of it all 1 Think as I will, I 
 cannot understand it. Where has all this money gone to ? 
 Talamon, who serves us faithfully, has made inquiries, and 
 he says that Louis has gone in for building to an enormous 
 extent. But if that were true, how could we be ignorant 
 of it? And anyway, he cannot have ruined himself by 
 building. Houses don't fly away, and they would always 
 be worth the money expended on them. There is evidently 
 something else." 
 
 The old lady was talking in her little, sharp voice with 
 feverish volubility. Her grey hair, escaped from beneath 
 her cap, had come out of curl, and was hanging down in 
 straight locks, and she, so neat and precise as a rule, had 
 let her lawyer see her in this disorder, and had come up to 
 H616ne in the same state, so great was her anxiety. 
 
 " If he had spent so much before, when he was a bachelor, 
 I should have understood where the money had gone to. 
 But now he is reformed, he is married and a father. 
 Haven't you really noticed anything 1 " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Does your husband hide things from you, then 1 " 
 
 " He has managed to do so from you pretty well." 
 
 " That's true. I don't know what I am saying, my dear. 
 I have completely lost my head." 
 
 She rose from her seat, and excitedly began to pace the 
 room. As she passed a mirror she caught sight of herself, 
 and was horror-stricken. 
 
372 WILL. 
 
 " Good gracious ! what a state I am in ! " she exclaimed, 
 and setting her cap straight, she hurried downstairs to her 
 own room. 
 
 In the afternoon Emilie came in. It was that very 
 morning that she had tried to make her father rescue Louis 
 from his terrible position, and her nerves were still un- 
 strung. She did not inquire after H6rault, for now she 
 was sure of what she had wanted to know, and old Madame 
 H^rault was quick enough to notice the omission. 
 
 "How is it you do not ask if we have heard from 
 Louis ? " she suddenly inquired. 
 
 " Ah, yes, I forgot," answered Mademoiselle LerebouUey, 
 without losing her self-possession. " Is he well 1 " 
 
 " He is so weU," returned Madame H6rault, " that he is 
 doing his best to squander all the money his father and his 
 grandfather made. Did you not know 1 " 
 
 " I heard he had done so yesterday. But I have foreseen 
 a long while that he would do so." 
 
 " Then you also know how and why he has rushed into 
 such mad speculation ? " 
 
 Emilie bent her head to denote "yes." 
 
 " Tell me all about it, my child, for it is a mystery to 
 me. What folly or what vice has brought him to such a 
 distressing position 1 Speak, I wish to know aU." 
 
 H6ltoe started from her seat as though to place herself 
 between Madame H6rault and Mademoiselle LerebouUey. 
 Her pride rebelled at the idea of the former learning her 
 grandson's faults and regarding him with contempt. He 
 was her — H6tene's — husband, the other half of herself, and 
 to her it seemed as though some of the blame and scorn he 
 would receive must be reflected upon her. She made a 
 
WILL. 873 
 
 movement by which she asked Emilie to say nothing. But 
 the grandmother saw the gesture, and, turning towards 
 her, said sternly : 
 
 " You wish to prolong my ignorance ? Why 1 Are you 
 partly responsible for the misfortune which has befallen 
 us 1 Have you as well as your husband deceived me ? Are 
 you his accomplice in wickedness ? Are you also guilty 1 " 
 
 At these words, which were at once so cruel and so 
 unjust, H61fene uttered a cry, and addressing herself to 
 Emilie, as though she was calling her to witness, 
 
 "I? I?" she cried. 
 
 Old Madame H6rault drew herself up until her stooping 
 body was erect, her features assumed a sudden expression of 
 energy and grandeur, and to her grandson's wife she said — 
 
 " Then, if I accuse you wrongfully, justify yourself I 
 am your mother, I have the right to know the truth, and it 
 is your duty to reveal it to me." 
 
 " No ! What you are demanding from her is beyond 
 her strength," exclaimed Emilie. "You shall hear from 
 my lips that which she has so proudly and so generously 
 hidden from you." 
 
 And disregarding Hdlfene's entreaties. Mademoiselle Lere- 
 bouUey commenced the narrative of the martyrdom which 
 for a year had been borne by the young wife without a 
 murmur in her tender anxiety to spare the grandmother 
 the knowledge of the follies of the grandson she so dearly 
 loved. She told all — the betrayal, the insolent abandon, 
 the abasement of the wife before the mistress, and as she 
 described the sorrows so bravely endured, the insults so 
 meekly submitted to, she contrasted the cynicism and the 
 treachery which had been displayed on the one side with 
 
374 WILL. 
 
 the patience and the gentleness on the other. She revealed 
 the infamous Diana in her true character, with her reputa- 
 tion stained and besmirched, and H61tee she depicted as 
 she was — proud, brave, angelic, and thus at once avenged 
 her for all her suffering. 
 
 Stupefied, the grandmother listened to this startling reve- 
 ation without uttering a word. Accustomed as she had been 
 for sixty years to consider all those who had in succession 
 borne the name of Herault — her husband, her son, and her 
 grandson — as beings of a superior clay to whom ought to 
 be rendered obedience and respect, what she now heard 
 came as a terrible blow to her, beneath which all her trust 
 and affection quivered. To her it seemed as though there 
 was nothing stable or fixed left upon the earth ; her fortune 
 was crumbling away, her honour was threatened, her happi- 
 ness destroyed. Like a shipwrecked sailor overwhelmed by 
 the storm, she cast a terrified glance around her and saw 
 only H61fene, grave, but calm and resolute. Then the old 
 grandmother approached the young woman, and bowing her 
 white head — 
 
 " My child," she said, " I have misjudged you. I have 
 accused you when all the sorrow you so courageously bear 
 has been brought upon you by me. I meant to bestow 
 wealth and happiness upon you, and now you are poor and 
 miserable. I ask your pardon." 
 
 She held out her arms, and, with an exclamation of aft'ec- 
 tion, H616ne threw herself into them. 
 
 " I hoped to have done so much for you, and it is to you 
 that I shall have to look for everything, for you will help me 
 to bear, with your sympathy and affection, the terrible grief 
 which will shadow my last days. If we are together we 
 
WILL. 375 
 
 shall have more strength to endure the sorrow with which 
 this wicked boy has envenomed our lives." 
 
 She could not continue, for H^lfene had gently placed her 
 hand upon her mouth. 
 
 " Do not be too hard," she said, entreatingly, " and do 
 not believe that Louis is completely lost. We will bring 
 him back to reason, we will restore quiet and wisdom to 
 his mind. Even in the darkest hours I have never lost 
 faith in him.' He has caused me cruel anguish, but I love 
 him, and love cannot exist without hope. He has com- 
 mitted faults, he has been foolish, but if we forget the 
 faults their traces will disappear ; and as for the follies, we 
 will help him to repair the mischief they have wrought. 
 We have a right to be indulgent since he is your son and 
 my husband, and women, you know, have been given to 
 men by God to cherish, pity, and console them." 
 
 " Ah, my daughter, you are an angel from heaven ! " 
 exclaimed Madame H6rault, unable to restrain her tears. 
 " And you have inspired me with a little confidence. But 
 where is Louis 1 What can he be doing ? He should be 
 back by now." 
 
 " Perhaps he suspects that we have learnt what has 
 happened and does not dare come here. But do not worry. 
 We shall soon have reliable news of him." 
 
 " And the money troubles in which he is involved, how 
 can we rescue him from them 1 " 
 
 " We must give up all you possess and all he settled on 
 me when I married him. But we must try to save the 
 factory, which has been the source of your former wealth, 
 and which may be the means by which we shall acquire 
 another fortune." 
 
376 WILL. 
 
 The old lady threw up her hands in wondering admira- 
 tion. 
 
 " What a wonderful woman you are ! " she exclaimed. 
 " But how shall we attain that end 1 " 
 
 H^lfene smiled, and with a firm, deeply-rooted conviction, 
 she replied — 
 
 " By our will." 
 
 Then in a low voice she began to make plans for the 
 construction, on the ruins of the edifice destroyed by Louis, 
 of another more solid and more lasting erection. In 
 the midst of her anguish she was already dreaming of 
 future efforts, and thus displaying her mind in all its mar- 
 vellous energy. She soothed old Madame H^rault's fears, 
 she astonished Emilie, energetic as was the latter herself, 
 and, giving way to the beguiling projects she was forming 
 for the future, she even turned her own thoughts from the 
 terrible realities of the present. 
 
 About four o'clock Emilie went away, promising, how- 
 ever, to return in the evening, and H61^ne was left alone. 
 Night was drawing on, and with the increasing darkness 
 the young wife's thoughts became gloomier also. The 
 arguments with which she had reassured Madame H6rault 
 did not seem trustworthy to herself. She upbraided her- 
 self with obstinately closing her eyes to the danger which 
 surrounded her, and all that there was to render her posi- 
 tion uncertain and unsafe appeared to her in the darkest 
 colours. 
 
 Her husband's unexplained stay away from home and 
 the absence of all news were signs calculated to frighten 
 her. What was he doing 1 Where was he ? In the dis- 
 couragement to which, knowing as she did the weakness of 
 
WILL. 377 
 
 Louis' character, she was sure he would give way, what 
 follies or violence might he not have been led to commit ! 
 As she pondered, this brave resolute woman felt her moral 
 strength forsaking her. She saw around her nothing but 
 darkness and silence. A deadly chill seemed to strike to 
 her very soul, she was filled with an awful nervous dread, 
 and, with palpitating heart, almost ready to shriek for help 
 under the intuitive consciousness of some unknown danger, 
 she rose to go into her bedroom, unable to stay alone any 
 longer in this room which seemed gloomy as a tomb. 
 
 She was quickly restored to herself by the opening of the 
 door to admit her maid with a lamp, the light of which 
 soon dispelled the dismal thoughts darkness had brought in 
 its wake. For a few seconds H616ne was dazzled by the 
 sudden brightness and could see nothing, then she distin- 
 guished a letter lying on a silver tray before her. She 
 seized it eagerly and scanned the handwriting, but it was not 
 Louis', and she sadly let the envelope drop again upon the 
 table. Then she resumed her seat, feeling more unhappy 
 in this bright light than she had felt when she was sur- 
 rounded by shadows, and listlessly she opened the letter 
 and began to read. 
 
 Suddenly her cheeks flushed crimson, and she uttered 
 an exclamation of amazement. As if dazzled by what she 
 saw before her, she passed her hand over her eyes, then 
 again taking up the letter she read — 
 
 " Your husband, whom you believe to be at London, has 
 been in Paris since yesterday. He leaves to-morrow for 
 Italy with someone whose name it is needless to mention. 
 If you wish to see him, you will find him at Monsieur de 
 Thauziat's house, where he is in hiding." 
 
378 WILL. 
 
 The paper slipped from her hands, and, stunned by the 
 tumult of the thoughts which were rushing through her 
 brain, she stood motionless in the middle of the room, all 
 physical strength gone, but with her reasoning powers 
 becoming every moment brighter and clearer. 
 
 Her first impression was that all was lost, that this time 
 the edifice she had raised with so much care upon the ruins 
 of "her .life was being destroyed by the irresistible blows 
 dealt by hatred, and that Louis was being triumphantly 
 borne away from her by her enemy. But her courage was 
 never long cast down, and hardly had she seen, in a hor- 
 rible, mental vision, her husband, the father of her child, 
 forsaking her at the time when his presence in his home 
 was imperatively commanded by every dictate of honour, 
 than she was seeking the means of holding back the fugitive. 
 A tempest of rage, which she made no effort to control, 
 urged her to cry aloud in the silence and solitude of her 
 deserted nuptial chamber, and a blood-red mist swam before 
 her eyes as she thought of going to kill her rival. What ! 
 Was not her misery yet abject enough 1 Must she, then, 
 be left for ever alone in life, must her son be as an orphan, 
 while this woman insolently paraded in her train this 
 husband torn from his own fireside, this father stolen from 
 the sympathy and affection of his family ! 
 
 " I would rather see him dead," she said aloud. But the 
 terrible words made her shudder, and she continued — " No ! 
 I shall be able to win him from her ! " And her blood, which 
 had been for an instant frozen, again coursed through her 
 veins, increasing the violence of her thoughts by its 
 impetuous current, and she thought herself strong enough 
 to attempt all and to succeed in all. She was consumed 
 
WILL. 379 
 
 by a burning fever, and, unable to remain still, she began 
 to pace the room, while every now and then some discon- 
 nected phrase issued from her lips. 
 
 The project which the letter, diabolical in its design, was 
 of necessity bound to suggest to her, took form in her mind 
 — she would go and seek her husband. Before all she 
 wished to prevent his departure. She knew what power 
 she could assert over him if she determined to speak to him 
 boldly; she remembered seeing him weeping at her feet, 
 weak and trembling. She would go to him, and once she 
 had found him he would be forced to follow her, even had 
 she to cover him with shame to overcome his resistance. 
 In her excitement she felt endued with herculean strength 
 — a strength which would enable her to bear him away in 
 her arms if needs were. 
 
 But her reason soaring above her anger, like an eagle 
 above the storm-clouds, put a stop to her extreme and 
 improbable suppositions. Whither must she go to find her 
 husband ? " To Monsieur de Thauziaf s house," answered 
 the letter. Thauziat ! A suspicion entered her mind. If 
 it should be a snare that had been set for her 1 If the man 
 who still loved her had connived with Diana to imagine 
 this means for drawing her to his house 1 
 
 She picked up the letter again, and carefully examined 
 the writing, but the characters were quite strange to her. 
 Lady Olifaunt had disguised her caligraphy with such 
 marvellous skill as to deceive even H^lfene's penetrating 
 eyes. What friend or what enemy could have sent the 
 anonymous communication t For a moment the young 
 wife thought of consulting Emilie, but she recollected that 
 Mademoiselle LerebouUey had already cheated her once 
 
380 WILL. 
 
 and assisted Louis to escape, and she might again — of 
 course from motives of afifection, to avoid any violent scenes 
 or to prevent a scandal — ^foil her in the execution of her 
 plan. It was not utterly out of the question for her to go 
 to Thauziat's house alone. If Louis were there what 
 danger would she be running? And if Louis were not 
 there, did she fear Thauziat 1 Even at the thought her lips 
 curled in a disdainful smile. Besides, ought she to hesitate 
 so long when her future happiness was in peril ? Was it not 
 cowardly to weigh so carefully every chance i She would 
 be able to surmount any obstacle which might present 
 itself, for never yet had she been vanquished save by those 
 she loved, and because her own heart was their accomplice 
 and a traitor to herself. Now she was fighting in defence 
 of her love, who would be strong enough to prevent her 
 gaining the victory 1 
 
 AH hesitation cast aside, with a smiling face she ordered 
 her carriage, for she did not wish her visit to Thauziat to 
 be in any way clandestine. She intended to present herself 
 with head erect and unveiled face, and, having thrown a 
 cloak around her, she hastily put on her bonnet and 
 drove off. 
 
 Diana had made every calculation when she sent her 
 letters. Clement hardly ever went out before two o'clock, 
 and H61fene, since her husband's departure, never left the 
 H^rault mansion, therefore they would both receive the 
 notes in plenty of time to act upon them. 
 
 Seated in a large arm-chair in a room hung with old 
 Genoa velvet with green flowers upon a silvery ground, 
 furnished with costly Eenaissance table and coffers, and 
 lighted by softly-coloured windows, Thauziat was meditating 
 
WILL. 381 
 
 in the twilight. His face was intensely sad, and his eyelids 
 drooped as though he were asleep. Diana had asked him 
 not to leave the house, but to wait, and he was doing so. 
 What he was awaiting he did not know, though an inward 
 instinct told him it was something in connection with 
 H6lene and Louis. 
 
 Gradually his thoughts had carried him into a world of 
 dreams where the altered reality gave him an impression 
 of perfect happiness. His eyes no longer saw his actual sur- 
 roundings. The severe and somewhat gloomy study where 
 he had passed so many lonely evenings pondering over his 
 disappointment, was changed into a light and sunny room 
 in which he could perceive the graceful outline of a woman's 
 form. As she moved, light as an ethereal creation, she 
 brought with her joy in the folds of her dress, and every- 
 thing was illumined with the radiance of her beauty. She 
 came nearer, nearer, until he could distinguish her features : 
 they were H616ne's. With throbbing heart Thauziat fol- 
 lowed her with his eyes, and no longer did her face betray 
 severity, while her glance was full of gentleness, confidence, 
 and affection. Her heart had been so cruelly tortured that 
 from its wounds all her love for Louis had flowed forth. 
 She had seen that she had taken a wrong path and had 
 resolutely turned back. Awaiting her she had found him 
 who so faithfully adored her, and life had begun again for 
 her sweet, calm, and happy. 
 
 Soothed by the fascinating vision, Clement remained 
 still, passionately clinging to this deception which gave him 
 all the delights he so ardently coveted. The deep bell 
 of the clock striking in the silence aroused him from his 
 ecstacy. He counted the strokes — it was four o'clock — 
 
382 WILL. 
 
 then rose with a sigh. The room was filled with shadows, 
 and outside there was a semi-obscurity only relieved by the 
 pallid light of the gas lamps. He stood at the window 
 absorbed in watching the passers-by hurrying along the 
 pavement. He felt nervous and uneasy, as if some event 
 of grave importance were about to happen, and he awaited, 
 in an agitation he could not subdue and for which he could 
 not account, the mysterious message or messenger which he 
 felt sure would come. 
 
 Just as the clock struck five a brougham stopped at the 
 door, and at the carriage window appeared the head of a 
 woman, indistinguishable in the darkness, giving some order 
 to the footman, who at once moved away. Thauziat's breath 
 came quick and short. " It is she ! Your dream is about 
 to become a reality ! " cried an inward voice, and his brain 
 seemed on fire. He listened intently. The door-bell rang, 
 its vibration seeming to find an echo in his very heart, 
 there was a soft sound of footsteps, then the study-door 
 opened, and a servant came in. Thauziat was so agitated 
 that he could not trust himself to speak. A thrill passed 
 through him, and his legs trembled under him. He was 
 impatient to know, and yet he was afraid to ask. 
 
 " Madame H6rault wishes to know if Monsieur is at 
 home, and can see her," said the servant, in calm 
 impassive tones. 
 
 Thauziat's eyes flashed : it was really she ! He made an 
 affirmative motion with his head, then, raising a velvet 
 portiire, passed into the drawing-room, where two lamps 
 were burning on the mantelpiece, and waited in an agony 
 of impatience, joy, and anxiety. 
 
 A rustle of silk, a firm step, the sound of a door gently 
 
WILL. 383 
 
 opened, and at once closed again, and H6lene looking a 
 little pale, and CMment grave and attentive, were alone 
 together. He offered her a chair, but, refusing to be 
 seated, she said in resolute tones — 
 
 "I have learned that my husband is at your house, 
 sir. Will you kindly tell him I am here 1 " 
 
 Thauziat looked surprised, and without moving from his 
 place he said very gently, for he feared to frighten her — 
 
 "Your husband, madame ! It is just a week since 1 
 have seen him, and I do not even know if he is in Paris, 
 but, in any case, I can assure you he is not in my house." 
 
 She looked at him haughtily. 
 
 " Who is deceiving me 1 My unknown correspondent or 
 you?" 
 
 " I ! " he cried, with an accent of sincerity it was impos- 
 sible to doubt. " I deceive you ! What interest should I 
 have in doing so ? " 
 
 And as she did not reply — 
 
 " Eegard this as your own house, madame," he went on 
 respectfully but firmly. " Ring, summon hither all those 
 who live around me here, and question them. Perhaps 
 you wUl put more faith in my servants' words than you 
 do in mine." 
 
 She fell into the seat he had drawn forward for her and 
 said in a choking voice — 
 
 " Forgive me ! I am so unhappy." 
 
 He bent as though he would prostrate himself at her 
 feet, but she prevented him by a gesture, and controlling 
 herself by an effort — 
 
 " Tell me the whole truth," she said. " I do not know 
 what is being planned around me, but I feel I am being 
 
384 WILL. 
 
 urged, in spite of my resistance, towards an abyss. Perhaps 
 I only need a word of sincere advice, of loyal warning, to 
 enable me to avoid the peril. Help me, enlighten me, I 
 implore you." 
 
 But Thauziat shook his head as he replied bitterly — 
 
 " Is it my place to help you against him who ought to be 
 your protector? What part are you asking me to play ? " 
 
 " A part I have judged you capable of sustaining — that 
 of a man generous enough to forget his rancour and his 
 wrongs,'' 
 
 "Do not hold me in such high esteem," he answered. 
 " I have suffered much and thought deeply, and I have lost 
 all illusions about myself. If you have counted on any 
 romantic abnegation on my part, cherish the hope no 
 longer. I have had enough unhappiness of my own, I 
 will not endure more torture for the sake of others.'' 
 
 For a moment she was daunted, but, throwing ofif the 
 impression, she put on a smiling countenance and retorted — 
 
 " Do not calumniate yourself ! I am sure you would 
 make any sacrifice to spare me sorrow," 
 
 He gazed ardently upon her. 
 
 " Ah, how well you know your power over me ! " he 
 exclaimed passionately. " Yes, I love you so that I would 
 give my life to see you smile upon me." 
 
 She moved as though to rise when she heard him speak 
 thus, but she had determined to force him to tell her what 
 she wished to know, so she only tried to stop his outburst 
 and to make him cold again as when she entered the room. 
 
 "I am not asking for your life," she returned lightly, 
 " I am only asking you to tell me where my husband is." 
 
 " Where can he be if not at Lady Olifaunt's — " 
 
WILI.. S85 
 
 She turned pale and her mouth twitched nervously. But 
 she did not despond. 
 
 " Then send for him." 
 
 " Of what use would that be ? " 
 
 " It would prove, at any rate, that you were anxious to 
 please me." 
 
 She uttered the words with a coaxing grace, for she 
 wanted to exert a fascination over Clement to make him 
 bring Louis to her. Then, as he made no answer, she 
 smiled at him, and joining her hands as if in entreaty — 
 
 " Shall I address myself to you in vain ? " 
 
 He left the mantelpiece on which he had been leaning to 
 draw nearer to her, and in icy tones — 
 
 " Do not attempt any longer, madame, to make me your 
 dupe. In your wish to make me the connecting link 
 between your husband and yourself, you are displaying a 
 coquetry which is distasteful to yourself and exceedingly 
 painful to me, but I think the means you are using to gain 
 your ends beneath us both." 
 
 Helene felt pained and ashamed of herself, for Thauziat 
 had indeed unmasked her in these words. By thus specu- 
 lating on the passion of this man who adored her, had 'she 
 not acknowledged and almost authorised it ? She breathed 
 a sigh and murmured softly — 
 
 " Ah, what hope is there left me now 1 " 
 " The hope that I shall tell you the truth, however 
 abominable it may "be. Oh, stay ! " he exclaimed, as he 
 saw her rise in terror. " Just now you asked me what it 
 was, and now are you afraid to hear it 1 " 
 
 " No," she said, j)roudly raising her head. " Speak, I 
 am listening to you." 
 
 2 B 
 
WILL. 
 
 " In the first place, how did you learn that you would 
 find your husband at my house 1 " 
 
 " By means of an anonymous letter. And there was 
 added, ' He leaves to-morrow with someone whose name it 
 is needless to mention.' " 
 
 "Just so. At the same time you received this warning, 
 J received a note advising me not to go out to-day." 
 
 " Then it was a trap ? " asked H(^lene, glancing at Thau- 
 ziat distrustfully. 
 
 " Laid for you and me." 
 
 " But by whom ? " 
 
 " By whom ? Who else would have laid it but the 
 woman to whose interest it is, and whose pleasure it would 
 be to ruin you 1 " 
 
 "Lady Olifauntr' 
 
 " Yes, Lady Olifaunt." 
 
 Then in a stifled voice he added — 
 
 " And who knows ? Perhaps another — " 
 
 Helfene's eyes dilated, and quivering with anguish — 
 
 " Whom else do you suspect 1 " she asked. " Whose 
 name is it you dare not mention t Is the accusation then 
 so very terrible a one that you hesitate to make it ? Whom 
 do you mean 1 " 
 
 He bowed his head as though he were ashamed of what 
 he was aboat to say, then he whispered two words — 
 
 " Your husband ! " 
 
 She was frozen with horror. This 'awful suspicion had 
 entered her mind, and for an instant she doubted the man 
 to whom she was bound by the indissoluble chains of love 
 and honour. Her sad experience whispered to her, "He 
 has abjured and sacrificed all for this shameless woman, 
 
WILL. 387 
 
 why should he not carry his infamy so far as to attempt tn 
 free himself from you by trying to catch you in an odious 
 snare 'i " But to this whisper she listened with a shudder 
 of disgust. In her heart another voice spoke firm and 
 strong : " Do not allow yourself to give way, do not believe 
 in such a crime, hope always, and you will triumph over 
 everything. Louis will be neither cowardly nor dishonour- 
 able if you do not forsake him ; he will be upright and 
 good. But you must be determined." 
 
 " This accusation is senseless," she said aloud, as though 
 in answer to her thoughts. 
 
 " Unfortunately it is but too probable," returned Thauziat, 
 with increasing excitement. " If your husband has yielded 
 to Lady Olifaunt's persuasions and decided to follow her, 
 it was in his power to make his departure less blameworthy 
 in the eyes of the world by letting it appear that your mis- 
 conduct was his excuse. You cannot imagine what a man 
 of his nature can become in the hands of a woman like 
 Diana. She has deprived him'of his reason, she is depriving 
 him of his fortune, and she will deprive him of his honour. 
 He has forsaken you for her, he will deliver you up to her 
 hatred. Degraded as she is herself, she longs to degrade 
 you also ; what happiness for her to make you appear as 
 vile as she is ! Her aim is to bespatter you with the mire 
 in which her life is passed, and he is her accomplice in the 
 •detestable work. He leaves his wife, the mother of his son, 
 defenceless against the ferocious insults of his mistress. You 
 know very well that all that I am saying is true ; your heart 
 has been already rent by the talons of this horrible woman, . 
 jou have already been compelled to efface the traces of her 
 foul attacks. Nothing is supposition, all is clear, proved, 
 
388 WILL. 
 
 certain, and the infamous past is the guarantee of an igno- 
 minious future ! " 
 
 As he spoke he had drawn nearer to her, and now his 
 tall figure towered above her, while his face was resplendent 
 with a terrible beauty. 
 
 The words he had just uttered had overwhelmed H61ene, 
 and she gazed at him in bewilderment, feeling frightened 
 and fascinated at the same time. How was she to know 
 the real workings of his gloomy mind 1 At what was he 
 aiming'! What hopes had he based on the misfortune 
 which had overtaken her 1 He had too much self-control 
 to have descended to making an accusation against Louis 
 simply to give himself the pleasure of seeing his rival 
 lowered in her esteem, then what bold project had he 
 formed, and what revenge did he desire for his past 
 defeat t 
 
 She fancied that on what he would say next depended 
 the irremediable downfall of her plans or their possible 
 success. The uncertainty was intolerable to her; she 
 wished to know at once what he was still withholding, and 
 she said boldly — 
 
 " What is your object in saying all this 1 " 
 
 " To prove to you that fate did not heedlessly place me 
 on your path, and that if I have already suffered so much 
 for love of you, perhaps it has only been to make you the 
 better appreciate my constancy. The baseness of your 
 enemies has made us the joint victims of an odious plot. 
 They have cast a doubt upon your honour and on mine 
 but I take up and accept their challenge. Attacked 
 through my love I will proclaim aloud my right to that 
 love. If, after affronting you in the grossest way, your 
 
WILL. 389 
 
 husband deserts you, you can again become free. Cast 
 him from your life as he has cast you from his ; retrace 
 your steps and efface from your memory the last two years. 
 I offer you my hand, place yours within it. Never will a 
 woman have been adored as you will be, for I will pass my 
 whole existence in making you forget the sorrows you have 
 endured." 
 
 She looked at him for a moment, then said slowly and 
 distinctly — 
 
 " In other words, you are offering me the chance of 
 recommencing my life as your wife after I have obtained a 
 divorce 1 " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " If my husband forsakes me, still I shall not be free," 
 she said gently. " I shall still have my child who will not 
 betray the affection I bestow upon him and with which 
 my life will be amply filled." 
 
 Thauziat extended his hand in a gesture of protection — 
 
 " He shall be my son," he answered. " I will love him 
 as if it were my own blood that flowed in his veins, and I 
 promise you to make an honest, honourable man of him." 
 
 " I am capable of doing that myself if his father fails in 
 his duty, for by devoting myself to him alone I shall be 
 setting him the example of fidelity and courage. And 
 when he has seen me constantly living the life of a good 
 mother and a loyal wife, he will need no one's help to 
 become an upright man." 
 
 " I own you will have admirably performed your duty, 
 but you will have lived but to sacrifice yourself, and you 
 will not have known one day's absolute, complete happi- 
 ness. You will have loved, but your love will not have 
 been returned to you. You will never have experienced 
 
390 WILL. 
 
 the delights which result from the exquisite accord of two 
 hearts which are so in unison that all their aspirations, 
 joys, and transports, are intermingled. And you are 
 in the glory of your youth and beauty, and years must 
 pass before you attain the age when the passions are 
 dead. Can you assert that your heart, which has been so 
 cruelly wounded, is dead for ever'? Are you sure you 
 will never feel regret t Ah, if you would confide yourself 
 to my care and allow me to watch over your future, I could 
 promise to make you take pleasure in your existence. I 
 should have but one aim in this world — to assure your 
 happiness. I have never loved any woman but you, and 
 for two years I have lived with your image in my heart, 
 suffering with and for you, and having but one joy in life 
 — that of seeing you, of being near you, of listening to the 
 sound of your voice, even when that voice only conveyed 
 cruel or indifferent words to my ears. Oh, how I have 
 cursed fate and envied that happy and undeserving man 
 who found the way to your heart, but who has not appre- 
 ciated the treasures of your beauty and your goodness ! 
 I have envied him, and now that I see you clinging to him 
 in spite of all, I hate him. Yes, I hate him with all the 
 strength of my being ! H6lfene, do not persist in your 
 folly. If you have no pity for yourself, take pity on the man 
 who lives but for you, and who would sacrifice all without 
 regret, to obtain from your eyes a look less cold, from 
 your mouth a word more merciful." 
 
 He was close beside her, his hands pleadiugly extended, 
 his face drawn by the violence of his feelings. He longed 
 for her with an ardour which gleamed in his eyes, which 
 burnt on his lips, and which surrounded her with a subtle 
 but consuming flame. For the first time, she felt frightened 
 
WILL. 391 
 
 ■when she saw him thus excited to the point of madness, 
 and she rose to her feet. But he seized the hem of her 
 dress, and kneeling before her with his face buried in the 
 material — 
 
 " Do not drive me to despair, I implore you ! " he con- 
 tinued. " You have caused me so much pain, and I, in 
 return, have given you nothing but my constant love. 
 Thiuk of how the man to whom you so sternly sacrifice me 
 betrays you and deserts you, of how at this moment he is 
 with that woman, perhaps in her arms — " 
 
 " Be silent," she exclaimed. " It is infamous to say such 
 things ! " 
 
 " The infamy is in his behaviour towards you. He is 
 about to run away with her — with her who is enriched by 
 his ruin and yours — " 
 
 " You lie ! " 
 
 And with a sudden movement she snatched her dress 
 from Thauziat's hands, and walking towards the door — 
 
 " I will listen to you no longer," she cried. 
 
 He sprang to his feet, and barring her way — 
 
 " Ah ! you are driving me to extremities ! You shall 
 stay ! " 
 
 " Will you dare to keep me here against my will ? " 
 
 " 1 will dare all." 
 
 His face had become sombre and menacing. She drew 
 back a pace, then said with insulting irony — 
 
 "Do you forget that, if you do not permit me to leave, 
 I shall have just reason for thinking that it was you who 
 laid the trap in which I have been caught % " 
 
 " Think so, if you choose." 
 
 " You asked me for my love ; is it my contempt that you 
 desire 't " 
 
392 WILL. 
 
 " You held my honour in your hands ; it depended upon 
 you whether I became good or had, and you have made me 
 wicked. Since a man must be criminal to find the way to 
 your heart, I will be so." 
 
 " Beware ! If you approach me, I will shriek for help." 
 
 " You would be but the more surely ruined, and ruined, 
 you are mine ! Besides, no one can come in ! " he added, 
 quickly shooting the bolt. 
 
 She ran to the window, but he was there as soon as she, 
 and seized her in his arms. She felt herself pressed to 
 his breast, she could hear the beating of his heart, then 
 she pushed her hands against his shoulders with all her 
 force, and, keeping herself at arm's length from him, 
 struggled furiously to elude his embrace. She dared not 
 scream, but she fought like a lioness. He — his eyes vacant, 
 his breath coming in hurried gasps, half-mad with desire 
 — was prepared for every violence. 
 
 H6l6ne was beginning to feel almost at the end of her 
 strength, Clement's burning face was drawing nearer and 
 nearer to her own when there came the sound of voices in 
 the next room rising above the stiiled noise of their fierce 
 struggle. 
 
 " Someone is coming," panted Madame H6rault. " There 
 is yet time — let me go and I promise to forget all that has 
 passed." 
 
 Thauziat made no reply, but, lifting her up, tried to 
 carry her out of the room. In the silence, there came a 
 knock at the door — a loud, impatient knock. H6lfene made 
 a supreme effort, and writhing in the arms which were 
 holding her, she slipped from them, found herself free and 
 ran to the door, which she threw open with an exclamation 
 
WILL. 393 
 
 of triumph. But the cry died away on her lips, and she 
 recoiled in terror — her husband was before her. 
 
 Pale and trembling she stood between the two men who 
 were questioning each other with their eyes. Then forget- 
 ful of all else besides her honour, and more eager to clear 
 herself than to quell the tempest she saw rising — 
 
 " Louis ! " she exclaimed. " First of all, do you believe 
 me guilty 1 " 
 
 She was superb in her outraged modesty, and, advancing 
 towards her with outstretched hand — 
 
 " No ! " he replied. 
 
 With a cry of relief, she threw her arms around him and 
 pressed him to her as if he had given her fresh life. Then, 
 turning with a terrible expression of scorn on her face to- 
 wards Clement who stood perfectly impassive — 
 
 " Monsieur de Thauziat," she said, " you have behaved 
 towards a woman like a coward. You are not worthy a 
 blow from the hand of a man." 
 
 And, snatching from Louis one of the gloves he was 
 twisting between his clenched fingers, she struck with it 
 the face of the man who had insulted her. 
 
 With a stifled cry he started, and seemed about to fall 
 on them and crush them both, then, with a tremendous 
 effort, he regained his self-control and became calm once 
 more, although his face was livid. 
 
 " You are right," was all he said with a despairing smile, 
 bowing before Madame Herault. 
 
 " You will hear from me to-morrow," said Louis. 
 
 "Yes, to-morrow," repeated Thauziat, and his voice 
 sounded like an echo in a vault. 
 
 H6lfene, with a shudder, seized her husband by the arm 
 and drew him away without once turning to look back. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 It was eleven o'clock in the morning, but so dark and foggy 
 was the day that it was hardly light. In the little drawing- 
 room on the second storey of the H^rault mansion (where 
 they had gone to be as far away as possible from old 
 Madame H6rault) H^lfene and Emilie were waiting. Louis- 
 had been gone two hours, for his encounter with Thauziat 
 was to take place at Bagatelle. The husband, to whom all 
 the rights of the offended party had been allowed, had chosen 
 pigtols as the weapons, and, as regarded conditions, twenty- 
 five paces distance, and to fire as either opponent chose. 
 The seconds, all well-known men and accustomed to affairs 
 of the kind, were, on Thauziat's side, the Baron Tr^sorier 
 and the Marquis de Beaulieu, and, on H^rault's, Colonel 
 Gandon (his cousin) and Pierre Delarue. They had made 
 every effort to obtain Louis' consent for the shots to be- 
 exchanged at the word of command, but he firmly refused, 
 and they were forced to give way and accept the conditions 
 imposed. 
 
 They were ignorant of the real cause of the quarrel. Louis 
 had told his friends that Clement had deeply insulted him, 
 and Clement had merely told his seconds to place him 
 entirely at his adversary's disposal. Still Thauziat was so- 
 good a shot that it was not in his interest that his repre- 
 sentatives had attempted to lessen the severity of the con- 
 ditions, but in his opponent's. -Firing at word of com- 
 mand, Louis had a chance — as it was, he was already a dead 
 
WILL. 3«5 
 
 mail. At least that was what was said, and what Emilie 
 had heard her father repeat. 
 
 In her terror, Mademoiselle Lereboulley had hastened to 
 He'lfene, who briefly, and with an awful calmness, explained 
 to her the cause of the duel. If her husband had been 
 going to wear an invulnerable suit of armour, she could 
 not have seemed more certain of seeing him return in safety. 
 
 She passed the evening before the encounter in her 
 chamber alone with Emilie, stilling her friend's fears by 
 her enthusiastic faith. 
 
 "God is just," she said, "and He cannot mean to lay a 
 greater burden of sorrow upon me than I can bear. Every 
 morning and evening for the last two years I have implored 
 Him to give me back the man I love, and since He has not 
 allowed me to despair, would He take him from me just as 
 misfortune may be about to restore him to me chastened 
 and repentant ? No, He never forsakes those who trust in 
 Him, and He has accepted the sacrifice of my sorrows. He 
 has seen my resignation. As a reward for my suffering He 
 owes me my husband's life, and He will give it me." 
 
 She spoke in a quiet, tranquil voice, and with a convic- 
 tion which was well calculated to insjpire fears for her 
 reason if the result should be fatal to her husband. 
 
 At midnight she asked her friend to leave her, at the 
 same time begging her to return early in the morning, for 
 Louis was to go away at nine o'clock. Then, when she 
 was alone, she installed herself in a room which was 
 between her husband's bedroom and her son's, leaving the 
 door open, as though she wished to surround the father 
 with the inviolable charm which emanated from the 
 innocence of the child. 
 
396 WILL. 
 
 Until daylight she prayed in silence. When she heard 
 Louis moving, she went into his room and talked to him, 
 enduing his wounded heart with confidence, imparting 
 to him courage, and arousing his pride. As he gazed 
 at her with humble admiration, he longed to cry aloud 
 the word which, at this critical hour, rang in his heart 
 — pardon; but he dared not, he felt too guilty. Ami 
 she, in her heroic determination to hide her agony, found 
 strength enough to smile. She knew that if she gave 
 way for a single instant she would become a prey to an 
 anxiety which would at once unnerve her husband and be 
 fatal to him, and as she wished him to be calm, firm, and 
 master of himself, she did as she had always done — set him 
 the example. 
 
 But, just as his seconds came for him, she fetched from 
 his bed little Pierre, who had just awoke, and placed him 
 in his father's arms, holding them both under the spell of 
 her glance, as though to bind them to each other so closely 
 that nothing could break the bond sealed by her will. 
 
 " Kiss papa,'' she said, " and say ' au revoir ' to him." 
 
 " Au revoir," repeated the little one, in his sweet, clear 
 voice, while he stroked his father's neck with his chubby 
 hands. 
 
 A shudder passed through Louis' frame, and his eyes 
 filled with tears. H61fene took the child from him, convul- 
 sively pressed him to her, then said — 
 
 " Now go." 
 
 And without a sigh, without a moan, she saw him leave, 
 and stood at the window watching him until she had seen 
 him get into the carriage. Then, when the rolling of the 
 wheels could be no longer distinguished amidst the noise of 
 
WILL. 397 
 
 the streets, she returned to her own room, and, her strength 
 utterly exhausted, burst into sobs. 
 
 A moment afterwards Emilie came and mingled her tears 
 with her friend's, and they sat together an hour, neither 
 speaking a word, as they listened in the silence to the 
 ticking of the clock which in all probability was telling 
 the last seconds of the existence of one of the two com- 
 batants. Emilie's heart was torn between her affection for 
 Louis and her affection for Thauziat, and she tried not to 
 look forward to the result, determined not to choose be- 
 tween him who had been the friend of her childhood and 
 him whom she had loved above all his fellow-men, for she 
 had a superstitious fear of in some way influencing their 
 fate if she made any mental preference. 
 
 At ten o'clock H(5lene breathed a sigh, and murmuring, 
 " They are facing each other now," fell on her knees. 
 Emilie remained seated, her face hollow with anguish, her 
 ear strained to catch the least noise which might be a sign 
 of the result, her heart beating so quickly that its throbbing 
 almost suffocated her, and the hour which was then passing 
 was a martyrdom for both women. The decree had been 
 pronounced, and they were ignorant of what it entailed. 
 At half past ten H61ene, no longer able to restrain her 
 agitation, went downstairs, opened a window, and leant 
 out. In her impatience to know, she longed to go out into 
 the street, to rush to meet the news, and yet, at the same 
 time, she was so afraid of what she might learn, that she 
 could have shut herself up in total darkness that she might 
 see and hear nothing. At eleven o'clock, Emilie, who 
 until then had said nothing, became almost distracted, and 
 cried : 
 
398 WILL. 
 
 " Ah, what is .happening t It is wicked to keep us so 
 long in ignorance ! All must be over by now ! " 
 
 She was almost swooning, but Hel^ne never glanced at 
 her friend ; her eyes were fixed on the entrance-door, as 
 though attracted by a magnetic force, and thus she awaited 
 either life or death. At last she uttered a cry which 
 thrilled Emilie to the very soul, such was the fierce 
 triumphant ring in it — 
 
 " It is he ! It is he ! He is living ! God has restored 
 him to me I " 
 
 She had not the strength to move a single step or to say 
 one word more, and clinging to the curtains for support, 
 she stood watching her husband, who was slowly walking 
 towards the house, supported by his seconds and the Baron 
 Tr^sorier. 
 
 And as she saw him thus pale and weak, a horrible hope 
 entered Emilie's heart — if Herault was wounded, Thauziat 
 must be safe. 
 
 The four men were now quite close to the house, and 
 Louis' face could be seen ghastly pale, his features drawn, his 
 lips contracted, and his eyes staring. His right arm, which 
 he could not move, was in a large black sling, and his over- 
 coat was thrown loosely over him to hide the disorder of 
 his blood-stained clothes. With difiiculty he mounted the 
 steps, almost carried by Colonel Gandon and Pierre Dela- 
 rue, and when he entered the door he fell nearly fainting 
 into H(3l6ne's arms. 
 
 "What imprudence!" she exclaimed. "Why did he 
 walk 1 Why not have let the carriage go for him ? " 
 
 " Your husband refused to do so for fear of frightening 
 you, madame,'' answered Delarue. " He wanted you to 
 see he was able to walk." 
 
WILL. 399 
 
 Louis tried to speak, but Helena gently placed her hand 
 before his mouth, and Tr6sorier whispered — 
 
 " Do not let us delay in putting him to bed. He is 
 dangerously wounded, the ball has fractured the shoulder, 
 and Rameau de Ferriere will be here in a few minutes to 
 make another examination.'' 
 
 H6I6ue left her husband for a moment to go over to the 
 baron and ask in trembling tones — 
 
 " And his adversary? " 
 
 Tr6sorier lowered his head and answered but one word — 
 
 " Killed." 
 
 At this terrible announcement they heard a moan, and 
 Emilie, paler than Louis, and almost as cold as his dead 
 antagonist, stood before the bearer of the gloomy tidings. 
 The baron turned to her and bowing before her — 
 
 " I was going to your house, mademoiselle," he said. 
 " Before the duel took place, Monsieur Thauziat placed in 
 my hands a letter which I was to return to him if fate was 
 in his favour, and to give to you if it was against him. I 
 am sorry to say, mademoiselle, that it is my duty to deliver 
 it to you." 
 
 Without a word Emilie took the letter he was holding 
 out to her, and, passing like a shadow from the hall, entered 
 the dining-room, where, free at last to give vent to her 
 anguish, she fainted away. When she regained her senses, 
 her eyes still dim fell on the letter she was grasping in 
 her clenched hand. She tore open the envelope, unfolded 
 the paper, and then wept bitterly as she recognised the 
 firm, clear writing that had been traced by the hand 
 which would never move again. She dried her tears, 
 and, eager to know what message the man she had so 
 
400 WILL. 
 
 devotedly loved had sent her from beyond the tomb, she 
 read— 
 
 " I have passed the night, my dear Emilie, ia making the 
 moral and material preparations necessitated by the grave 
 combat which is about to take place. I have put my affairs 
 • in order and I have submitted my conscience to a strict 
 examination. The first task was more quickly finished 
 than the second. I found it far easier to settle my worldly 
 accounts than to settle those of my soul, and the struggle 
 I have had with mjfself has been long and painful. The 
 judge was severe, but the accused made an energetic de- 
 fence, and it was long before the sentence was pronounced 
 but — it condemns me. I have acted wickedly, and you were 
 right when you told me I was doing so, but I was carried 
 away by my passion, and it was a baa counsellor. Three 
 times have I felt the spirit of evil take possession of me 
 and deaden my sense of right and wrong. In vain did I 
 struggle amidst the shadows and firmly resolve to direct 
 my steps towards the light — the light which is truth and 
 justice. A force stronger than my will — my rebellious 
 animal instincts — held me back and forced me to commit 
 three shameful, dishonourable actions. The first was placing 
 my hand in that of the man I hated ; the second, frequent- 
 ing his house to rob him of his honour ; and the third, 
 making a cowardly use of my strength against a woman. 
 Each time I knew I was committing a crime, each time I 
 persisted in my course. The attraction of evil outweighed 
 the protestations of my revolted conscience, and I have 
 been compelled to suffer the twofold torture of hating my 
 fault and yet committing it. 
 
 " And even now that I am at death's threshold able to 
 
WILL. 401 
 
 see at once the past which can never be recalled, and the 
 future which might have been, though I have suflScient 
 strength to condemn my conduct, I am not strong enough 
 to repent. At the very moment that I may be about to 
 leave the world, my heart leaps, my flesh quivers at the 
 thought that, though at the price of a crime, the woman I 
 adore might have been mine, and I curse the fate which has 
 placed that woman on my path, and yet has not permitted 
 me to clasp her in my arms and make of her the joy of my 
 existence. Oh, how I have loved her, and how at this 
 instant I do still love her ! She has never had an idea of 
 my immense affection for her — affection which I have 
 been unable to prove to her by my life, but which I am 
 going to try and prove to her by my death. For she has 
 decided between her husband and myself. The love she 
 bears to him outstrips the love I have for her. You, who 
 are always right, forewarned me that I should be vanquished 
 in the struggle I had commenced against fidelity and good- 
 ness, and I have nothing more to do but pay my ransom, 
 and I will pay it royally by giving my rival his life and 
 happiness to her by whom he is beloved. In the duel 
 which is to take place to-morrow, Louis will be at my 
 mercy, but I have determined to spare him. I will not be 
 the cause of another tear to her who has suffered too much 
 already ; I have resolved to put an end to her martyrdom 
 and to become her ally against her enemies. Unfortunately 
 I know Louis too well not to be sure that the only remedy 
 for his absurd passion is a separation from the object of it 
 — a ball in the shoulder, three weeks' pain, a little blood 
 lost, and he would think no more of Lady Olifaunt. I 
 will administer this cure. Wounded, he will inspire more 
 
 2 c 
 
402 WILL. 
 
 sympathy and words of pardon will more easily rise from 
 the heart to the lips of her he has so foolishly neglected. 
 Now, my task is finished. I owe nothing more to anyone, 
 and at the foot of the terrible debit and credit account I 
 had opened I have just written : even. 
 
 " And now I want to think of no one but you, you who 
 have been my sincere, devoted, and affectionate friend, and 
 who will regret me, I am sure, although I have been a 
 cause of suffering to you. You gave me one day the 
 greatest proof of esteem a woman can possibly give a man ; 
 you came to me with outstretched hand, saying — 'Will 
 you take me as your wife 1 ' Alas ! I was not worthy of 
 you, as I have but too well proved. Forgive me the grief 
 I have caused you, and be convinced that your name will 
 be the last I shall utter in this world. When I am no 
 more, come sometim.es to see me where I shall lie sleeping 
 in eternal silence and repose. I have always loved flowers, 
 bring me some — nothing is more melancholy than a 
 neglected tomb. And if some essence of myself still dwells 
 beneath the stone, I shall hear your light footstep, I shall 
 recognise the murmur of your voice, and my night will be 
 less sombre, my sleep less stony. 
 
 " But day is breaking— the last one of my life. I send 
 you a hundred kisses. Adieu." 
 
 With trembling fingers Emilie folded up the letter and 
 placed it next her heart. Her eyes were dry and there 
 was not a tear-drop on her cheeks. She rose, rang the 
 bell, asked for her cloak and hat, and, without going to 
 see H61fene, left the house. 
 
 A quarter of an hour later she was at Thauziat's house. 
 The door was wide open, the hall empty, and she went 
 
WILL. 403 
 
 straight upstairs and into the drawing-room, where, seated 
 at a table, was the Marquis de Beaulieu, giving some orders 
 to Clement's confidential valet. He rose respectfully when 
 he saw Mademoiselle LerebouUey. 
 
 " You wish to see him ? " he asked in a low voice. 
 
 " Yes," she replied. 
 
 He raised a portihre, then stood on one side to allow 
 Emilie to pass, and when the heavy curtain fell behind her 
 she found herself alone in Thauziat's bedroom. Stretched 
 on the bed lay Cl6ment fully dressed, the red silk coun- 
 terpane heightening by its contrast the pallor of his face. 
 His eyes were closed, his lips fixed in a smile as if he 
 were hurling a last defiance at existence, and his hands 
 were lying open and straight down beside him. He had 
 apparently passed away easily and without a struggle, 
 almost as though he were inviting death. A silver candel- 
 abra placed beside him threw its light upon his proud and 
 noble features, and there was no trace of blood, no stain ; 
 he had died as he had lived, with every refinement. 
 
 Emilie drew near to the bedside, gazed long and ear- 
 nestly upon the dead face, that its image might be im- 
 printed ineffaceably upon her heart, then, bending down, 
 she laid her lips upon the forehead which no longer masked 
 an active brain. A moment after she almost shrieked 
 aloud. She fancied that Clement's eyelids had moved in a 
 rapid vibration, and that an almost imperceptible quiver 
 had passed over his face, as if the kiss she had just given 
 him had rekindled a last spark of life within him. But 
 slowly a violet shadow crept over his temples, and bound 
 them with a crown of mourning. Then, with a sob, she 
 fell upon her knees and prayed. 
 
404 WILL. 
 
 As Emilie had once said, it had needed the white-hot 
 iron to heal Louis' gangrened heart. Stretched upon a bed 
 of pain, consumed by agonising anxieties, afraid to question 
 either his wife, whose gentleness, calmness, and firmness were 
 never-failipg, or his grandmother, whose sorrowful tender- 
 ness cut him to the heart, the unhappy H6rault suffered 
 less acutely from his physical ills than from his mental 
 torments. His wound, which was a bad one, had soon 
 begun to heal under the skilful treatment it received, but 
 when would the sore in his heart close up 1 
 
 He had wasted and squandered all the gifts fate had 
 lavished upon him with so bountiful a hand. He had be- 
 trayed the confidence of his grandmother, he had been 
 false to his wife, and he had dissipated the wealth amassed 
 by his father, and which he ought to have held in trust for 
 his son. In his folly he had thrown all to the winds. 
 And he did not receive one reproach. His grandmother 
 moved quietly about his room, talking in whispers to his 
 wife, and the child played on the floor, with silvery bursts 
 of laughter. In spite of his guilt, he had been deprived 
 of none of his privileges or his rights, and, as in the past, 
 he was loved and respected. But were not all these favours 
 simply granted to him because he was ill ? Perhaps not this 
 kindness and this gentleness were merely inspired by pity. 
 
 During the long sleepless hours when he lay motionless, 
 fearing to awake his wife, who slept in the next room, he 
 thought of all he had done, and the past few months 
 seemed like a horrible nightmare. Had he not been 
 mad 1 Could it be really he who had committed so many 
 base and cowardly actions for the sake of a creature of 
 whose vicious nature he was perfectly aware ? In com- 
 
WILL. 405 
 
 paiison with himself, Thauziat seemed innocent, and often 
 during the night did his dead friend's pale face appear to 
 him, not threatening or terrible, but sad and gentle. The 
 vision was so real that Louis thought C16ment was indeed 
 before him, and he longed to speak to him, but was afraid. 
 Then he became feverish, and tossed restlessly from side to 
 side, and in the morning they found him pale and shuddering. 
 But once, by the light of the night-lamp, he saw Thauziat 
 leaning over him, gazing anxiously at him, as if he were 
 watching the progress the invalid made towards health, 
 and found it far too gradual. The phantom was so near, 
 that, raising himself with tremendous effort, Louis tried to 
 grasp it, but his hands clutched only air. Then, in a voice 
 almost inaudible, he whispered in the silence : 
 
 " Forgive me, C16ment ! " 
 
 The shadow placed an icy hand upon the burning fore- 
 head of his murderer, and replied — 
 
 " I have nothing to forgive you. It was not you who 
 killed me, it was she ! " 
 
 " Then why do you haunt me thus as soon as night 
 falls ? " 
 
 " If the sight of me is distasteful to you, I will show 
 myself no more. But I shall be always near you to protect 
 and guard you, for all that remains of me is still faithful 
 to the only love of my life. Love her dearly you whom 
 she loves, and be happy, as you may be yet." 
 
 He vanished, and Louis saw him no more, but from that 
 hour he improved rapidly, and at the end of six weeks he 
 was well. 
 
 '* At last the day came when Rameau de Ferrifere said to 
 his patient : 
 
406 WILL. 
 
 " Now you can go out and resume your ordinary life ; " 
 and the same afternoon Hdlfene ordered the carriage, and 
 seating herself in it with her husband and old Madame 
 H6rault, told the coachman to go to the factory at Saint- 
 Denis. When they reached the charming house, surrounded 
 by a pretty garden, which had always been occupied by 
 the manager of the works, they left the carriage, and in 
 the oflS^ce, which was near the entrance, they found Maitre 
 Talamon, their lawyer, awaiting them. Then, very gravely, 
 H61fene began to speak : 
 
 " Dear Louis," she said, " while you have been unable 
 to see to your affairs, Madame H6rault and I have been 
 obliged to make arrangements by which you may be 
 enabled to discharge your debts. Boissise and the mansion 
 in the Faubourg Poissonifere must be sold, and we have 
 found purchasers. I shall give up the money you settled 
 upon me at our marriage and so you will be free, while you 
 will still possess the factory which was the instrument by 
 means of which your father and grandfather made their 
 wealth. And now you have only to sign the deeds Maitre 
 Talamon has been good enough to bring with him, and all 
 will be finished." 
 
 Louis turned pale, and taking his wife by the hand he 
 drew her to the window : 
 
 " Then, this house—" 
 
 " Is the one in which we shall live henceforth." 
 
 " And all that I gave you when I married you ? " 
 
 " I have refunded. I entered your house poor, poor I 
 shall have left it." 
 
 " But the money I settled upon you is your son's." 
 ' " To my son nothing can be more precious than his 
 father's honour." 
 
WILL. 407 
 
 Louis raised his tear-filled eyes to the proud, brave, 
 generous-hearted woman beside him, and said : 
 
 " How shall I ever repay you for what you have done ? " 
 
 " By being an upright, honest, hard-working man,'' she 
 replied, with a serene and tranquil glance. And pointing 
 to the factory with its busy workmen and noisy hammers — 
 
 " There lies your salvation. You have, destroyed the 
 edifice your grandfather raised. Eebuild it. I will help 
 
 you." 
 
 " But can we reconstruct it 1 " 
 
 " We can do everything if we will." 
 
 She led him back to the table. He took up a pen, and 
 with the future she was promising him before him, drew 
 without hesitation a line through the past. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 TURKBULL AND SPEAHS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH. 
 
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