ot's name fall, there might be some advantage to be had out of
it.

"I see his father is not here to-night," he said. "Sensible man, his
father."

"How should he be here!" said Helene, turning her head away. "He is gone
to Paris to find him. How could he be here, dancing and laughing--I ask
myself, how can anybody--"

She spoke half aside, breaking off suddenly.

"Yourself, for instance?" said Ratoneau, staring at her. "And why should
you shut yourself up and make the whole world miserable, because your
cousin is a fool? But you have not done so."

"Because it is impossible, I am not free."

"What would you be doing now, if you were free?"

Helene shrugged her shoulders. Ratoneau laughed.

"Does Monsieur de la Mariniere expect to bring his son back with him?"
he asked.

His tone was sneering, but Helene did not notice it.

"I do not know, monsieur," she said. "But my cousin will come back. He
has done nothing. He has been in no plots. The Emperor cannot punish an
innocent man."

She looked up suddenly, cheered by repeating what Monsieur des Barres
had told her. Her pathetic eyes met Ratoneau's for a moment; surely no
one could be cruel enough to deny such facts as these. In the General's
full gaze there was plenty of what was odious to her, but no real
kindness or pity. She blushed as she thought: "How dares this man look
at me so? He is nothing but the merest acquaintance. He is
insupportable."

"If we were to go back into the ball-room, monsieur," she said gravely,
beginning to move away. "My mother will be looking for me."

"No, mademoiselle," said Ratoneau, coolly, "I think not. Madame la
Comtesse saw me take you this way."

He sat down on a sofa, spreading his broad left hand over the gilded
sphinx of its arm. With his right hand he pointed to the place beside
him.

"Sit down there," he said.

Helene frowned with astonishment, caught her breath and looked round.
There were two or three people at the other end of the room, but all
strangers to her, and all passing out gradually; no one coming towards
her, no one to rescue her from the extraordinary manners of this man.

The glance she gave him was as withering as her gentle eyes could make
it; then she turned her back upon him and began to glide away, alone,
down the room.

"Mademoiselle--" said Ratoneau; his voice grated on her ears.

Was he laughing? was he angry? in any case she was resolved not to speak
to the insolent creature again.