r. Oh, I can walk! I feel a great deal
better."

Madame de Camors took her mother's arm and conducted her as far as the
door of the chamber prepared for her. On the threshold she left her.

"Be sensible," said Madame de Tecle, turning and giving her another
smile.

"And you also," said the young woman, whose voice failed her.

Madame de Tecle, as soon as the door was closed, raised her clasped
hands toward heaven; then, falling on her knees before the bed, she
buried her head in it, and wept despairingly.

The library of M. de Camors was contiguous to this chamber. He had been
walking with long strides up and down this corridor, expecting every
moment to see Madame de Tecle enter. As the time passed, he sat himself
down and tried to read, but his thoughts wandered. His ear eagerly
caught, against his will, the slightest sounds in the house. If a
foot seemed approaching him, he rose suddenly and tried to compose his
countenance. When the door of the neighboring chamber was opened, his
agony was redoubled. He distinguished the whispering of the two voices;
then, an instant after, the dull fall of Madame de Tecle upon the
carpet; then her despairing sobs. M. de Camors threw from him violently
the book which he was forcing himself to read, and, placing his elbows
on the bureau which was before him, held, for a long time, his pale brow
tightened in his contracted hands. When the sound of sobs abated little
by little, and then ceased, he breathed freer. About midday he received
this note:

"If you will permit me to take my daughter to the country for a few
days, I shall be grateful to you.

"ELISE DE TECLE."

He returned immediately this simple reply:

"You can do nothing of which I do not approve to-day and always.
CAMORS."

Madame de Tecle, in fact, having consulted the inclination and the
strength of her daughter, had determined to remove her without delay,
if possible, from the impressions of the spot where she had suffered
so severely from the presence of her husband, and from the unfortunate
embarrassment of their situation. She desired also to meditate in
solitude, in order to decide what course to take under such unexampled
circumstances. Finally, she had not the courage to see M. de Camors
again--if she ever could see him again--until some time had elapsed. It
was not without anxiety that she awaited the reply of the Count to the
request she had addressed h