upon the crowds on the Boulevard, upon the decrepit baths
of Julian, upon the far heights of Belleville, upon her more cheerlessly
than upon all.

She listened timorously for his word of recall. She wondered if he were
not writing a reply. Yes, that was his manner; he was cold and sharp of
speech, but he was an artist with his pen. She thought that her long
patience had moved him. Perhaps she should be all forgiven. Aye! they
should dwell together a few days longer. It was a dismal thought that it
must be for a few days, yet that would be some respite, and then they
could part friends; though her heart so clung to his that a parting
should rend it from her, she wanted to live over their brief happiness
again.

"Oh!" said Suzette, in the end, laying her cheek upon the cold iron of
the balcony, "I wish I had died at my father's home of pining for
something to love rather than to have loved thus truly, and have it
accounted my shame. If I were married to this man I could not be his
fonder wife; but because I am not he despises me. All day I have crawled
in the dust; I have made myself cheap in his eyes. If I were prouder he
might not love me more, but his respect would be something."

She rallied and took heart. Pride is the immortal part of woman. With a
brighter eye she entered the room. Her letter, blotted with tears, lay
crumpled and torn upon the floor at his bedside, and he, with his face
to the wall, was snoring sonorously.

"Ralph Flare," cried Suzette, "arise! that letter is the last olive
branch you shall ever see in my hand; _adieu_!"

He opened his eyes yawningly. Suzette, with trembling lips and nostrils,
clasped the door-knob. It shut behind her with a shock. Her feet were
quick upon the stairs; he pursued her like one suddenly gone mad, and
called her back with something between a moan and a howl.

"Do not go away, Suzette," he cried; "I only jested. I meant this
morning to search you out and beg you to come back. I would not lose you
for France--for the world. Be not rash or retaliatory! become not the
companion of this Frenchman who has divided us. We will commence again.
I have tested your fidelity. You shall have all the liberty that you
need, everything that I have; say to me, sweetheart, that you will
stay!"

For a moment her bright eyes were scintillant with wrath and
indignation. He who had racked her all day for his pleasure was bound
and prostrate now. Should she not do as much for her reve