end to my architect
and say, Build me a villa at least twice as grand as M. Louvier's, then
clear away the forest trees, so that every morning he may see my palace
dwarfing into insignificance his own."

"Bravo!" cried Lemercier, clapping his hands. Lemercier had the spirit
of party, and felt for Duplessis against Louvier much as in England Whig
feels against Tory, or vice versa.

"Perhaps now," resumed Duplessis, more soberly,--"perhaps now, M.
le Marquis, you may understand why I humiliate you by no sense of
obligation if I say that M. Louvier shall not be the Seigneur de
Rochebriant if I can help it. Give me a line of introduction to your
Breton lawyer and to Mademoiselle your aunt--let me have your letters
early to-morrow. I will take the afternoon train. I know not how many
days I may be absent, but I shall not return till I have carefully
examined the nature and conditions of your property. If I see my way to
save your estate, and give a mauvais quart d'heure to Louvier, so much
the better for you, M. le Marquis; if I cannot, I will say frankly,
'Make the best terms you can with your creditor.'"

"Nothing can be more delicately generous than the way you put it,"
said Alain; "but pardon me, if I say that the pleasantry with which you
narrate your grudge against M. Louvier does not answer its purpose in
diminishing my sense of obligation." So, linking his arm in Lemercier's,
Alain made his bow and withdrew.

When his guests had gone, Duplessis remained seated in
meditation--apparently pleasant meditation, for he smiled while
indulging it; he then passed through the reception-rooms to one at the
far end appropriated to Valerie as a boudoir or morning-room, adjoining
her bed-chamber; he knocked gently at the door, and, all remaining
silent within, he opened it noiselessly and entered. Valerie was
reclining on the sofa near the window-her head drooping, her hands
clasped on her knees. Duplessis neared her with tender stealthy steps,
passed his arm round her, and drew her head towards his bosom. "Child!"
he murmured; "my child, my only one!"

At that soft loving voice, Valerie flung her arms round him, and wept
aloud like an infant in trouble. He seated himself beside her, and
wisely suffered her to weep on, till her passion had exhausted itself;
he then said, half fondly, half chillingly: "Have you forgotten our
conversation only three days ago? Have you forgotten that I then drew
forth the secret of your heart?