er."

M. de Bois's countenance fell.

"But Mademoiselle Madeleine is not even engaged."

"Is she not? Are you sure?"

"Quite sure," returned Gaston.

"But she loves some one,--does she not?" questioned Bertha, artfully.

"She has said she did," was the cautious response.

"Then, if she loves some one, we have only to find out who it is and
bring them together, and get them to understand each other, and help
them to fix the day. Would not that be charming?"

"Yes, very," replied M. de Bois; but he sighed as he spoke, remembering
how improbable it was that anything of the kind would take place.

Bertha had a suspicion that he must have some knowledge of Madeleine's
mysterious lover, and her idea of the perfect confidence that ought to
exist not only between husband and wife, but a lover and his betrothed
bride, would of itself have been sufficient inducement to make her
endeavor to discover the secret.

"You have been near Madeleine all these years that she has been lost to
us."

"Yes, happily for _me_; and if she can only say happily for _her_, I
should be proud as well as thankful."

"She does,--I am sure she does say so," responded Bertha,
affectionately. "What could she have done without you? It was because
you were so much to Madeleine that you became so much to--to--that is
so--so--I mean"--

Many a sentence of Gaston's had she finished when his words became
entangled through confusion; it was but a fair return for him to
conclude this one of hers, though perhaps he did so in a manner that
added to her embarrassment.

Bertha recovered herself, and shook back her curls as though they were
in fault. Then looking up archly in Gaston's face she said,--

"And if I wanted an excuse for what I have done, could I have found a
better?"

"Not easily," returned the delighted lover, "and I excuse you for a
piece of bad taste which has rendered me the happiest and proudest of
men."

"But we were talking of Madeleine," persisted Bertha; "you know every
one whom she knows,--do you not?"

"What, all her patrons? Heaven forbid!"

"No,--no,--you are very tantalizing,--I did not mean those. I mean the
persons who visit her: you know them all?"

"Most of them, I believe."

"Then you must be acquainted with this invisible lover of hers!"

Now was M. de Bois puzzled. Bertha saw the advantage she had gained.

"You must have seen him,--you must know all about him,--and _I must
know_ also. Not to satisfy my cu