l, "not at all."

He placed himself before her, and looked at her some moments before
speaking, his eyes rolling wildly.

"Charlotte!" he said at last, with a painful smile, "I must own to you
my folly. I am almost mad since morning--I have received such a singular
letter. Would you like to see it?"

"If you wish," she replied.

He took a letter from his pocket, and gave it to her. The writing was
evidently carefully disguised, and it was not signed.

"An anonymous letter?" said the Marquise, whose eyebrows were slightly
raised, with an expression of disdain; then she read the letter, which
was as follows:

"A true friend, General, feels indignant at seeing your confidence
and your loyalty abused. You are deceived by those whom you love
most.

"A man who is covered with your favors and a woman who owes
everything to you are united by a secret intimacy which outrages
you. They are impatient for the hour when they can divide your
spoils.

"He who regards it as a pious duty to warn you does not desire to
calumniate any one. He is sure that your honor is respected by her
to whom you have confided it, and that she is still worthy of your
confidence and esteem. She wrongs you in allowing herself to count
upon the future, which your best friend dates from your death. He
seeks your widow and your estate.

"The poor woman submits against her will to the fascinations of a
man too celebrated for his successful affairs of the heart. But
this man, your friend--almost your son--how can he excuse his
conduct? Every honest person must be shocked by such behavior, and
particularly he whom a chance conversation informed of the fact, and
who obeys his conscience in giving you this information."

The Marquise, after reading it, returned the letter coldly to the
General.

"Sign it Eleanore-Jeanne de la Roche-Jugan!" she said.

"Do you think so?" asked the General.

"It is as clear as day," replied the Marquise. "These expressions betray
her--'a pious duty to warn you--'celebrated for his successful affairs
of the heart'--'every honest person.' She can disguise her writing,
but not her style. But what is still more conclusive is that which she
attributes to Monsieur de Camors--for I suppose it alludes to him--and
to his private prospects and calculations. This can not have failed to
strike you, as it has me, I suppose?"

"If I thought this vile letter was her work,"