t inconvenience yourself so much."

For a short time Helene had been watching Malignon. He had just shaken
hands with the doctor, and was now bidding farewell to Juliette at the
doorway. She had a lustrous face and sparkling eyes, and by her
complacent smile it might have been imagined that she was receiving
some commonplace compliments on the evening's success. While Pierre
was pouring out the punch at a sideboard near the door, Helene stepped
forward in such wise as to be hidden from view by the curtain, which
had been drawn back. She listened.

[Illustration: Malignon appoints a Rendezvous with Juliette]

"I beseech you," Malignon was saying, "come the day after to-morrow. I
shall wait for you till three o'clock."

"Why cannot you talk seriously," replied Madame Deberle, with a laugh.
"What foolish things you say!"

But with greater determination he repeated: "I shall wait for you--the
day after to-morrow."

Then she hurriedly gave a whispered reply:

"Very well--the day after to-morrow."

Malignon bowed and made his exit. Madame de Chermette followed in
company with Madame Tissot. Juliette, in the best of spirits, walked
with them into the hall, and said to the former of these ladies with
her most amiable look:

"I shall call on you the day after to-morrow. I have a lot of calls to
make that day."

Helene stood riveted to the floor, her face quite white. Pierre, in
the meanwhile, had poured out the punch, and now handed the glass to
her. She grasped it mechanically and carried it to Mademoiselle
Aurelie, who was making an inroad on the preserved fruits.

"Oh, you are far too kind!" exclaimed the old maid. "I should have
made a sign to Pierre. I'm sure it's a shame not offering the punch to
ladies. Why, when people are my age--"

She got no further, however, for she observed the ghastliness of
Helene's face. "You surely are in pain! You must take a drop of
punch!"

"Thank you, it's nothing. The heat is so oppressive--"

She staggered, and turned aside into the deserted drawing-room, where
she dropped into an easy-chair. The lamps were shedding a reddish
glare; and the wax candles in the chandelier, burnt to their sockets,
threatened imminent destruction to the crystal sconces. From the
dining-room were wafted the farewells of the departing guests. Helene
herself had lost all thoughts of going; she longed to linger where she
was, plunged in thought. So it was no dream after all; Juliette would
visit