satisfied look, when he called to see Mme. Fauvel on
the following week.

"I think I have solved the problem," he said.

"What problem?"

"The means of saving Raoul."

He explained himself by saying, that as Mme. Fauvel could not, without
arousing her husband's suspicions, continue her daily visits to Raoul,
she must receive him at her own house.

This proposition shocked Mme. Fauvel; for though she had been imprudent,
even culpable, she was the soul of honor, and naturally shrank from the
idea of introducing Raoul into the midst of her family, and seeing him
welcomed by her husband, and perhaps become the friend of his sons.
Her instinctive sense of justice made her declare that she would never
consent to such an infamous step.

"Yes," said the marquis, thoughtfully, "there is some risk; but then, it
is the only chance of saving your child."

She resisted with so much firmness and indignation that Louis was
astonished, and for a time nonplussed; though he by no means let the
subject drop, but seized every opportunity of impressing upon her
tortured mind that Raoul's salvation depended entirely upon her.

"No," she would always reply, "no! Never will I be so base and
perfidious to my husband!"

Unfortunate woman! little did she know of the pitfalls which stand ever
ready to swallow up wanderers from the path of virtue.

Before a week had passed, she listened to this project, which at first
had filled her with horror, with a willing ear, and even began to devise
means for its speedy execution.

Yes, after a cruel struggle, she finally yielded to the pressure of
Clameran's politely uttered threats and Raoul's wheedling entreaties.

"But how," she asked, "upon what pretext can I receive Raoul?"

"It would be the easiest thing in the world," replied Clameran, "to
admit him as an ordinary acquaintance, and, indeed, to place him on
the same footing which I myself occupy--that of an intimate friend and
habitue of your drawing-rooms. But Raoul must have more than this; he
needs your constant care."

After torturing Mme. Fauvel for a long time, he finally revealed his
scheme.

"We have in our hands," he said, "the solution of this problem, which
may be so easily reached that I regard it as an inspiration."

Mme. Fauvel eagerly scanned his face as she listened with the pitiable
resignation of a martyr.

"Have you not a cousin, a widow lady, who had two daughters, living at
St. Remy?" asked Louis.

"Yes, Mm