oiselle Melanie immediately, and _in
private_," whispered Victorine. "He particularly said _in private_, and,
evidently he is very desirous of not being seen. He was quite confused
when that stupid valet ushered him into the exhibition-rooms; but
fortunately, I came to his assistance. He was so anxious to escape
observation that he _would_ follow me downstairs; I therefore ushered
him into Mademoiselle's private drawing-room."

"Did you not ask his name?" inquired Madeleine, quietly.

"He would not give his name, mademoiselle. He said I must deliver you
this note when no one was by, or slip it in your hand unperceived."

She spoke in a whisper, and gave the note with her back turned to
Maurice, probably supposing that he was not aware of its delivery.
Madeleine broke the seal quite openly. At the first line, however, she
changed color, and was visibly disturbed. Victorine, who was watching
her closely, exulted in secret. Maurice perceived Madeleine's agitation
with surprise and pain. A suspicion that the letter was from his rival
could not be escaped.

"What is it?" he asked, impulsively.

"I cannot tell you," replied Madeleine, hastily refolding the letter.

"Can you not tell me from whom this letter comes?"

"No--no!" she replied with unusual vehemence.

"Alas! I know too well," returned Maurice sadly. "But why should you be
agitated and troubled by what he says? What right has he to give you
pain?"

"You must leave me--leave me at once!" cried Madeleine, nervously.

Victorine was enchanted; the plot thickened! Here was a mystery, and she
held the clew to it! It was very plain that Mademoiselle Melanie did not
wish these two gentlemen to meet.

"Victorine, you will conduct monsieur"--said Madeleine. "I do not wish
him to leave by the front entrance; you will conduct him through the
garden."

There was a private entrance into the street through the large garden at
the back of the house; but this was the first time that Victorine had
ever received an order to show any visitor out by that way, and she felt
she was beginning to be admitted to Mademoiselle Melanie's
confidence,--an honor for which she had long sighed.

Maurice was about to remonstrate, but Madeleine said to him,
imploringly, "Can you not trust me? Will you not consent to my wishes,
and trust to their being explained some future day?"

Maurice, though tormented by the keenest pangs of jealousy, could not
resist this appeal.

"I trust you