head, and was looking down at him, smiling,
though her eyes were wet. He took her hand and held it against his lips.

"How I adore you!" he whispered.

"Then you are free--free to be happy," she said.

"As far as I know--unless that clever father of mine has asked the
Emperor for a commission for me--but I think, for my mother's sake, he
would not do that. He has not told Uncle Joseph so, at any rate; the
dear uncle would not have received an officer of Napoleon's so nicely."

Helene shuddered; the very word "officer" brought Ratoneau to her mind.
But she felt safe at least, safe for ever now, from _him_.

"I hate soldiers," she said. "Must every one fight and kill?"

Her bridegroom was still kneeling at her feet when Monsieur Joseph came
back, bringing Henriette with him. The child's dark eyes were full of
sleep, her cropped hair stood on end, her small figure was wrapped in
her little flannel gown; she looked a strange and pathetic creature,
roused out of sleep, brought down to take her part in these realities.
But she was equal to the occasion. Riette never failed in the duties of
love; she was never called upon in vain. She went round to the back of
Helene's chair, took her face in her two small hands, leaned forward and
kissed her forehead under the curls.

"Go, mon petit!" she said to Angelot. "I will keep her safe till you are
back in the morning."

She spoke slowly, sleepily.

"Riette is always my friend," said Angelot.

"I told you long ago," said the child, "that papa and I would help you
to the last drop of our blood."

"Ah! we have not reached that point yet," said Monsieur Joseph, laughing
softly. "Now, my children, say good-bye. After all--for a few hours--it
is not a tragedy."

* * * * *

The Lancilly ball was the most brilliant, the most beautiful, for many
hours the most successful, that had taken place in that country-side
since before the Revolution. Many people arriving late, the crowd of
guests went on increasing, and they danced with so much energy, the
music was so beautiful, the whole affair went with such a swing,
strangely mixed as the company was from a political point of view, that
Madame de Sainfoy in the midst of her duties as hostess had no time to
give more than an occasional thought to her own family. She watched
Georges and his proceedings with satisfaction, but after missing Helene
and sending Mademoiselle Moineau to look for her, she forg