me."

"And you never once betrayed yourself?"

"No. What seems most singular is that from the very day I mentioned to
M. de Bois that I had seen her, she came no more. Yet how could she have
learned, or divined, that I knew her?"

"That circumstance, dear Maurice, makes it all look like a dream. As
soon as the fever left you the phantom it conjured up disappeared."

Maurice shook his head, unconvinced, and Bertha was too willing to be
deceived herself to attempt to persuade him that he was in error.

The Marquis de Merrivale now entered. Maurice, whom he had only known
slightly, rose in favor when the epicure found that the young Parisian
could give all requisite information concerning the best restaurants in
Paris; and the viscount reached a higher summit of esteem, when he
promptly promised to put Lucien _en train_ to familiarize himself with
certain valuable culinary discoveries. Maurice knew enough of the
character of the marquis to be confident that his stay in the metropolis
would be determined by the amount of comfort he enjoyed, and the quality
of the dinners set before him.

Bertha's next visit was from M. de Bois, and could she have banished
from her mind a vague impression that he loved Madeleine, or was beloved
by her, the interview would have afforded her unmitigated happiness.

M. de Bois had not yet gained sufficient mastery over himself to command
his utterance in the presence of the woman who had most power to confuse
him. He still stammered painfully; but he could not help remarking that,
even as Madeleine had said, Bertha finished his broken sentences,
apparently unaware that she was doing so. And her greeting, surely it
had been far from cold. And did she not say, with a soft emphasis which
it almost took away his breath to hear, that it seemed an age since they
met? Had she then felt the time long? And did she not drop some
involuntary remark concerning the dulness of Brittany after he and
Maurice left? Had she not coupled him with her cousin? Might he not dare
to believe that Madeleine was right, and Bertha certainly did not scorn
him?

CHAPTER XIV.

DIAMONDS AND EMERALDS.

"I wish you would go, Maurice. Do, for my sake!" pleaded Bertha,
twisting in her slender fingers a note of invitation. "The Marquis de
Fleury was one of the first persons who called upon my uncle, and he
made a very favorable impression. Then Madame de Fleury has nearly
crushed me beneath an avalanche of swee