of
vulgar breeding. I cannot endure to see a niece of mine with so little
self-control."

Bertha removed her handkerchief and tried to force back her tears, as
she said,--

"Maurice begs to speak to you for a moment."

"Very good. Can he not come to me?"

"He entreats that you will go into the drawing-room."

"Do you mean to intimate," asked the countess, sternly, "that my
grandson ventures to _summon me to his presence_, instead of coming to
mine? What indignity am I to expect next? Since he has forgotten his
duty and the deference due to me, go and remind him."

"He has something very serious to tell you," faltered Bertha; "he wants
you to hear it there,--it is so sad."

Bertha, in spite of her aunt's contemptuous glances, could not help
burying her face in her handkerchief again.

"What absurdity!" sneered the countess; but she began to experience a
vague sensation of uneasiness.

"Come! come! do come!" pleaded Bertha.

"Since it seems the only way to put an end to this hysterical exhibition
of yours, Bertha, I will go and reprove Maurice for his lack of
respect."

But the countess did not literally carry her threat into execution; for,
noticing the absence of Count Tristan, she said hurriedly,--

"Where is your father?"

"Pray sit down one moment, my dear grandmother"--

She interrupted him by asking again, more anxiously,--

"Where is your father?"

"I will explain, but"--

"Why do you not answer my question?" she cried with increased violence.
"Where is your father?"

Could Maurice answer "At Madeleine's?" He still hesitated, and the
countess, with more rapid steps than she was wont to use, hastened to
Count Tristan's bedroom.

Mrs. Gratacap greeted her with "Oh, poor dear, don't take on about it!
We couldn't but expect that it would come soon, and"--

The countess did not wait to hear the close of her sentence, but with a
cold horror creeping through her veins, hurried back to Maurice, and
once more asked, imperiously,--

"Maurice, where is your father? I command you to answer at once! I will
hear nothing but the answer to that question."

Driven to extremity, Maurice replied, "My father is at Madeleine's!"

"Miserable boy! How did you dare to set my wishes at defiance? You
shall repent this,--be sure you shall! How had you the audacity to fly
in the face of my command?"

"I heard no commands on the subject," returned Maurice; "and if I had
done so, my father's wishes would still