ns.

The answer was in the negative.

"Have you not seen her?" she asked.

"No, not this morning," replied the countess.

"I suppose she is taking an early walk," continued Bertha. "It seems odd
that she does not come back, for she is never late."

Bertha seated herself, but the coffee remained untasted before her; and
her head was constantly turned towards the window which commanded a view
of the garden and park. Gustave passed, and she cried out to him,--

"Gustave, have you seen Mademoiselle Madeleine, this morning?"

"No, mademoiselle."

"Why, where _can_ she be?" exclaimed Bertha, impatiently. "If you will
excuse me, aunt, I will go in search of her. Since she has not broken
her fast yet, we will breakfast together, as usual." And away darted
Bertha into the garden.

The countess had not attached any importance to Madeleine's absence, and
resumed the conversation with her son.

Through Count Tristan's mind the suspicion at once had flashed that
Madeleine was gone, and he chuckled inwardly at the verification of his
own unspoken predictions. A quarter of an hour passed, and then he
beheld Bertha coming rapidly from the direction of the _chalet_. He felt
no surprise in observing that she was alone. The windows of the
breakfast-room opened to the ground, and she entered by one of
them,--her face crimsoned, her fair hair unbound and floating over her
shoulders, for she had been running.

"I cannot find Madeleine!" she faltered out. "It is very strange! She is
not in the _chalet_, nor in the garden. I have called until I am hoarse.
I picked up this handkerchief in the _chalet_,--it is marked 'G. de
Bois,' yet it is three days since M. de Bois was here; and Madeleine and
I have spent every morning since then at the _chalet_. When could M. de
Bois have dropped this handkerchief there?"

The count took the handkerchief from her hand, and examined the mark
without comment: he could not trust his voice at that moment.

"I presume Madeleine will be here presently, to account for herself,"
remarked the countess, not apparently discomposed. "Take your breakfast,
Bertha; there is no need of your fasting until she chooses to make her
appearance."

Bertha obediently sat down, sipped her coffee for a few moments, and
then, declaring that she wanted nothing more, left the room and returned
to Madeleine's apartment. It was in perfect order, but so it was always;
the bed was made, but Madeleine was in the habit of mak