er his arm, he was looking anxiously about for some one in
the assembled crowd to whom he could give the signal for departure. He
was already talking of starting off when M. de Fondege appeared. The
friends of M. de Chalusse who were to hold the cords of the pall came
forward. There was a moment's confusion, then the hearse started, and
the whole cortege filed out of the courtyard.

Deep silence followed, so deep that the noise made in closing the
heavy gates came upon one with startling effect. "Ah!" moaned Madame de
Fondege, "it is over."

Marguerite's only reply was a despairing gesture. It would have been
impossible for her to articulate a syllable--her tears were choking her.
What would she not have given to be alone at this moment--to have
been able to abandon herself without constraint to her emotions! Alas!
prudence condemned her to play a part even now. The thought of her
future and her honor lent her strength to submit to the deceitful
consolations of a woman whom she knew to be a dangerous enemy. And the
General's wife was by no means sparing of her consolatory phrases; in
fact, it was only after a long homily on the uncertainty of life below
that she ventured to approach the subject of her letter of the previous
evening. "For it is necessary to face the inevitable," she pursued. "The
troublesome realities of life have no respect for our grief. So it is
with you, my dear child; you would find a bitter pleasure in giving vent
to your sorrow, but you are compelled to think of your future. As M. de
Chalusse has no heirs, this house will be closed--you can remain here no
longer."

"I know it, madame."

"Where will you go?"

"Alas! I don't know."

Madame de Fondege raised her handkerchief to her eyes as if to wipe a
furtive tear away, and then, almost roughly, she exclaimed: "I must tell
you the truth, my child. Listen to me. I see only two courses for you
to adopt. Either to ask the protection of some respectable family, or to
enter a convent. This is your only hope of safety."

Mademoiselle Marguerite bowed her head, without replying. To learn the
plans which the General's wife had formed she must let her disclose
them. However, the girl's silence seemed to make Madame de Fondege
uncomfortable, and at last she resumed: "Is it possible that you think
of braving the perils of life alone? I cannot believe it! It would be
madness. Young, beautiful, and attractive as you are, it is impossible
for you to live