and your little sister?"

"I am in love with no one, father, and jealous of no one, not even of
your friend the diplomatist, M. de Vandenesse."

The Marquise turned pale; her daughter saw this, and stopped short.

"Sooner or later I must live under some man's protection, must I not?"

"That is true."

"Do we ever know," she went on, "the human being to whom we link our
destinies? Now, I believe in this man."

"Oh, child," said the General, raising his voice, "you have no idea of
all the misery that lies in store for you."

"I am thinking of _his_."

"What a life!" groaned the father.

"A woman's life," the girl murmured.

"You have a great knowledge of life!" exclaimed the Marquise, finding
speech at last.

"Madame, my answers are shaped by the questions; but if you desire it, I
will speak more clearly."

"Speak out, my child... I am a mother."

Mother and daughter looked each other in the face, and the Marquise said
no more. At last she said:

"Helene, if you have any reproaches to make, I would rather bear them
than see you go away with a man from whom the whole world shrinks in
horror."

"Then you see yourself, madame, that but for me he would be quite
alone."

"That will do, madame," the General cried; "we have but one daughter
left to us now," and he looked at Moina, who slept on. "As for you," he
added, turning to Helene, "I will put you in a convent."

"So be it, father," she said, in calm despair, "I shall die there. You
are answerable to God alone for my life and for _his_ soul."

A deep sullen silence fell after these words. The on-lookers during
this strange scene, so utterly at variance with all the sentiments of
ordinary life, shunned each other's eyes.

Suddenly the Marquis happened to glance at his pistols. He caught up one
of them, cocked the weapon, and pointed it at the intruder. At the click
of firearms the other turned his piercing gaze full upon the General;
the soldier's arm slackened indescribably and fell heavily to his side.
The pistol dropped to the floor.

"Girl, you are free," said he, exhausted by this ghastly struggle. "Kiss
your mother, if she will let you kiss her. For my own part, I wish never
to see nor to hear of you again."

"Helene," the mother began, "only think of the wretched life before
you."

A sort of rattling sound came from the intruder's deep chest, all eyes
were turned to him. Disdain was plainly visible in his face.

The General rose to his