n's, for instance_," remarked Madeleine, bitterly.

"Ah, not _his_, that is true. How wickedly he looked at you when Maurice
pictured how dear you were to him! I noticed Cousin Tristan's eyes, and
they frightened me. He looked positively fiendish; and when Maurice
said"--

To hear those precious words Maurice had spoken,--those words which she
could never more forget,--repeated, was beyond Madeleine's powers of
endurance: she sprang up, exclaiming, "Do not let us talk of these
matters any more to-day, Bertha. It is growing late,--almost six
o'clock. It is time for you to dress for dinner. And you have not
forgotten the ball to-night?"

"I could not bear to go now. I am sure Maurice will not go; and
you,--would you go, even if we did?"

"You will not refuse me a favor, Bertha, though it may cost you some
pain to grant it? Go to this ball, and persuade, entreat Maurice to go.
If you do not, you will draw down my aunt's displeasure upon me anew,
for she will know why you remain at home,--especially as it will be
impossible for me to appear in public to-night."

"I would do anything rather than have my aunt displeased with you again;
and then there is the beautiful dress you have taken such pains to
make."

"I should be very much disappointed if you did not wear it this evening.
Now let us prepare for dinner."

As she spoke, Madeleine commenced her own toilet. Bertha stood looking
at her as she unbound her long silken hair, and, after smoothing it as
carefully as was her wont, rapidly formed the coronal braid, and wound
the rich tress about the regal head.

"I cannot comprehend you, Madeleine: you are a marvel to me. A couple
of hours ago you were almost frantic with grief,--I never saw any one
weep so immoderately; and now you are as serene as though nothing had
happened. If your lips were not so very, very white, and your eyes had
not such a fixed, unnatural look, I could almost think you had forgotten
that anything unusual had occurred."

"Forget it yourself, dear, and make ready for dinner."

Bertha obeyed at least part of the injunction, still wondering over
Madeleine's incomprehensible placidity.

The young maidens entered the dining-room together. Maurice came in
late. The meal passed almost in silence, though the Countess and Count
Tristan made unusual efforts to keep up a conversation.

Bertha was right in imagining Maurice had lost all inclination to appear
at the ball. When she brought up the subje