h a call this evening, Monsieur--"

Her eyes were flashing as he had seen them flash in front of the Place
d'Armes.

"I beg you not to suspect me of meanness," he answered, gently, and with
a remonstrative smile. "I have been trying all day, in a way unnecessary
to explain, to be generous."

"I suppose you are incapabl'," said Aurora, following her double
meaning with that combination of mischievous eyes and unsmiling face of
which she was master. She resumed her seat, adding: "It is generous for
you to admit that Palmyre has suffered wrongs."

"It _would_ be," he replied, "to attempt to repair them, seeing that I
am not responsible for them, but this I cannot claim yet to have done. I
have asked of you, Madam, a generous act. I might ask another of you
both jointly. It is to permit me to say without offence, that there is
one man, at least, of the name of Grandissime who views with regret and
mortification the yet deeper wrongs which you are even now suffering."

"Oh!" exclaimed Aurora, inwardly ready for fierce tears, but with no
outward betrayal save a trifle too much grace and an over-bright smile,
"Monsieur is much mistaken; we are quite comfortable and happy, wanting
nothing, eh, Clotilde?--not even our rights, ha, ha!"

She rose and let Alphonsina in. The bundle was still in the negress's
arms. She passed through the room and disappeared in the direction of
the kitchen.

"Oh! no, sir, not at all," repeated Aurora, as she once more sat down.

"You ought to want your rights," said M. Grandissime. "You ought to have
them."

"You think so?"

Aurora was really finding it hard to conceal her growing excitement,
and turned, with a faint hope of relief, toward Clotilde.

Clotilde, looking only at their visitor, but feeling her mother's
glance, with a tremulous and half-choked voice, said eagerly:

"Then why do you not give them to us?"

"Ah!" interposed Aurora, "we shall get them to-morrow, when the sheriff
comes."

And, thereupon what did Clotilde do but sit bolt upright, with her hands
in her lap, and let the tears roll, tear after tear, down her cheeks.

"Yes, Monsieur," said Aurora, smiling still, "those that you see are
really tears. Ha, ha, ha! excuse me, I really have to laugh; for I just
happened to remember our meeting at the masked ball last September. We
had such a pleasant evening and were so much indebted to you for our
enjoyment,--particularly myself,--little thinking, you know, that you