helping and advising a poor lonely woman. On our return
to Paris, madame, we shall venture to consult you, and you will tell us
whether we may ask for this precious assistance.

In any case, I will ask you to be my intermediary with Monsieur de
l'Estorade; tell him the facts I have now told you, and say that I hope
the little cloud between us may be effectually removed. If I am elected,
we shall be, I know, in opposite camps; but as my intention is not to
take a tone of systematic opposition in all the questions which may
arise between our parties, I do not think there _need_ be any break
between us.

By this time to-morrow, madame, I may have received a checkmate which
will send me back forever to my studio, or I shall have a foot in a
new career. Shall I tell you that the thought of the latter result
distresses me?--doubtless from a fear of the Unknown.

I was almost forgetting to give you another piece of news. I have
consulted Mother Marie-des-Anges (whose history Marie-Gaston tells me
he has related to you) on the subject of my doubts and fears as to the
violence done to Mademoiselle de Lanty, and she has promised that in
course of time she will discover the convent in which Marianina is a
prisoner. The worthy Mother, if she takes this into her head, is almost
certain to succeed in finding the original of her Saint-Ursula.

I am not feeling at all easy in mind about Marie-Gaston. He seems to me
in a state of feverish agitation, partly created by the immense interest
he takes in my success. But I greatly fear that his efforts will
result in a serious reaction. His own grief, which at this moment he is
repressing, has not in reality lost its sting. Have you not been struck
by the rather flighty and mocking tone of his letters, some of which he
has shown to me? That is not in his nature, for in his happiest days
he was never turbulently gay; and I am sadly afraid that when this
fictitious excitement about my election is over he may fall into utter
prostration. He has, however, consented to come and live with me,
and not to go to Ville d'Avray unless I am with him. Even this act of
prudence, which I asked without hoping to obtain it, makes me uneasy.
Evidently he is afraid of the memories that await him there. Have I the
power to lessen the shock? Old Philippe, who was left in charge of the
place when he went to Italy, had orders not to move or change anything
whatever in the house. Our friend is therefore likely to