d, she immediately
closed her eyes, and in a few minutes was lying there breathless,
overpowered by leaden slumber.

CHAPTER XVIII.

It was nearly nine o'clock the next morning before Rosalie was able to
serve the coffee. Helene had risen late. She was weary and pale with
the nightmare that had broken her rest. She rummaged in the pocket of
her dress, felt the letter there, pressed it to the very bottom, and
sat down at the table without opening her lips. Jeanne too was
suffering from headache, and had a pale, troubled face. She quitted
her bed regretfully that morning, without any heart to indulge in
play. There was a sooty color in the sky, and a dim light saddened the
room, while from time to time sudden downpours of rain beat against
the windows.

"Mademoiselle is in the blues," said Rosalie, who monopolized all the
talk. "She can't keep cheerful for two days running. That's what comes
of dancing about too much yesterday."

"Do you feel ill, Jeanne?" asked Helene.

"No, mamma," answered the child. "It's only the nasty weather."

Helene lapsed once more into silence. She finished her coffee, and sat
in her chair, plunged in thought, with her eyes riveted on the flames.
While rising she had reflected that it was her duty to speak to
Juliette and bid her renounce the afternoon assignation. But how? She
could not say. Still, the necessity of the step was impressed on her,
and now her one urgent, all-absorbing thought was to attempt it. Ten
o'clock struck, and she began to dress. Jeanne gazed at her, and, on
seeing her take up her bonnet, clasped her little hands as though
stricken with cold, while over her face crept a pained look. It was
her wont to take umbrage whenever her mother went out; she was
unwilling to quit her side, and craved to go with her everywhere.

"Rosalie," said Helene, "make haste and finish the room. Don't go out.
I'll be back in a moment."

She stooped and gave Jeanne a hasty kiss, not noticing her vexation.
But the moment she had gone a sob broke from the child, who had
hitherto summoned all her dignity to her aid to restrain her emotion.

"Oh, mademoiselle, how naughty!" exclaimed the maid by way of
consolation. "Gracious powers! no one will rob you of your mamma. You
must allow her to see after her affairs. You can't always be hanging
to her skirts!"

Meanwhile Helene had turned the corner of the Rue Vineuse, keeping
close to the wall for protection a