name, though it is as rightfully hers as yours. Do you not observe that
she has only allowed herself to be called by her middle name, and that
every one speaks of her as Mademoiselle Melanie?"

Bertha, as she spoke, bent caressingly over her aunt, and took her hand.
But the attempt to soften the infuriated aristocrat was futile.

The countess replied, with increasing wrath, "I tell you she has
humiliated herself and us to the last degree! She has brought shame upon
our heads!"

Gaston de Bois was walking up and down the room, thrusting his fingers
through his hair, flinging out his arms spasmodically, and, now and
then, giving vent to a muttered ejaculation, which sounded alarmingly
emphatic. When he heard these words, he could restrain himself no
longer. He came boldly forward, and planting himself directly in front
of the countess, unawed by her forbidding manner, exclaimed,--

"No, madame; that I deny! Mademoiselle de Gramont has brought no shame
upon her family!"

"She no longer belongs to my family!" retorted the countess. "I disown
her henceforward and forever!"

"And you do rightly, my mother," added the count. "We will never
acknowledge her, never see her again! Maurice and Bertha, we expect that
you will abide by our determination."

Maurice did not reply; he stood leaning against the mantel-piece, lost
in thought, his eyes bent down, his head resting upon his hands.

Bertha, however, answered with spirit. "I make no promise of the kind.
Nothing could induce me to cast off my dear Madeleine!"

M. de Bois seized her hand, and, involuntarily carrying it to his lips,
said, with mingled enthusiasm and veneration, "You are as noble as I
thought you were! I knew you would not forsake her!"

Bertha raised her eyes to his face with an expression which thrilled
him, as she answered, "You will defend her, M. de Bois; you, who can
perhaps disperse the cloud of mystery by which her life has been
enveloped for the last four years. You will tell my aunt how Madeleine
has lived,--what she has done. You will tell us _all about her_."

"That I will, gladly!" replied he. "That is, _if I can_. I never in my
life so much desired the pow--ow--ower of spee--ee--eech!"

He broke off, and, in an undertone, gave vent to certain exclamations
which indistinctly reached the ears of the countess and Bertha.

Their amazed looks did not escape his notice, and he continued: "Ladies,
I ought to ask your pardon; possibly my expr