er? You have no need of their affection. And yet, the day will
come when they will all seek you, and be proud and glad to claim you. I
say it, and I feel it!"

Madeleine shook her head.

"And they did not _all_ throw you off. Was not Mademoiselle Bertha just
what she always is? And was not Maurice,--though he appeared to be so
completely overwhelmed that he could not command his voice,--was he not
the same as ever?"

"_Was_ he the same, think you?" asked Madeleine, eagerly.

"Yes, I am sure of it; and I come here to-day as his messenger,--or,
rather, as the herald of his coming."

Madeleine trembled, in spite of herself. The thought of beholding
Maurice once more, of conversing with him, of listening to him, affected
her too strongly for her to be able even to _assume_ indifference.

M. de Bois regarded her with an air of exultation.

"I have judged you rightly, then, and you are unchanged. Maurice is not
less dear to you than"--

Madeleine's hand, appealingly lifted, checked him.

For a few moments she remained silent. When her tranquillity was
somewhat restored, she said slowly, but in an altered tone,--

"You are the messenger of Maurice; what did he request you to say to
me."

"He commissioned me to let you know that he earnestly desired an
interview with you, at once,--and alone,--free from interruption. He
entreats you to receive him to-day. I promised, as soon as I could make
known to you his petition, that I would return to him with your
answer;--he awaits it impatiently. What answer shall I give him?"

"He may come," answered Madeleine, in a tone of suppressed emotion.

"I will tell him that he may be here in an hour?" said Gaston
interrogatively, for he saw the mighty struggle Madeleine was making to
control herself, and thoughtfully desired to give her some little time
for preparation.

Madeleine bowed her head in acquiescence.

Gaston had too much delicacy to prolong the conversation. He bade her
adieu and at once sought Maurice.

CHAPTER XXVI.

MEETING OF LOVERS.

M. de Bois lost no time in communicating to Maurice the result of his
visit. He found the young viscount awaiting him with torturing
impatience. Gaston had scarcely said that Madeleine would receive her
cousin in an hour, when Maurice, without heeding the last words, caught
up his hat, convulsively grasped his friend's hand, and, without
uttering a syllable, hurried forth.

He was acquainted with Madeleine's reside