be heard by
everybody. "It seems you go in for swimming now."

He did not guess her meaning, but nevertheless replied, by way of a
joke:

"Certainly; I once saved a Newfoundland dog from drowning."

The ladies thought this extremely funny, and even Madame Deberle
seemed disarmed.

"Well, I'll allow you to save Newfoundlands," she answered, "but you
know very well I did not bathe once at Trouville."

"Oh! you're speaking of the lesson I gave you!" he exclaimed. "Didn't
I tell you one night in your dining-room how to move your feet and
hands about?"

All the ladies were convulsed with mirth--he was delightful! Juliette
shrugged her shoulders; it was impossible to engage him in a serious
talk. Then she rose to meet a lady whose first visit this was to her
house, and who was a superb pianist. Helene, seated near the fire, her
lovely face unruffled by any emotion, looked on and listened.
Malignon, especially, seemed to interest her. She saw him execute a
strategical movement which brought him to Madame Deberle's side, and
she could hear the conversation that ensued behind her chair. Of a
sudden there was a change in the tones, and she leaned back to gather
the drift of what was being said.

"Why didn't you come yesterday?" asked Malignon. "I waited for you
till six o'clock."

"Nonsense; you are mad," murmured Juliette.

Thereupon Malignon loudly lisped: "Oh! you don't believe the story
about my Newfoundland! Yet I received a medal for it, and I'll show it
to you."

Then he added, in a whisper: "You gave me your promise--remember."

A family group now entered the drawing-room, and Juliette broke into
complimentary greetings, while Malignon reappeared amongst the ladies,
glass in eye. Helene had become quite pale since overhearing those
hastily spoken words. It was as though a thunderbolt, or something
equally unforeseen and horrible, had fallen on her. How could thoughts
of treachery enter into the mind of that woman whose life was so
happy, whose face betrayed no signs of sorrow, whose cheeks had the
freshness of the rose? She had always known her to be devoid of
brains, displaying an amiable egotism which seemed a guarantee that
she would never commit a foolish action. And over such a fellow as
Malignon, too! The scenes in the garden of an afternoon flashed back
on her memory--she recalled Juliette smiling lovingly as the doctor
kissed her hair. Their love for one another had seemed real enough. An
inexplic