ast word, M. Duplessis?"

"Monsieur Louvier, it is."

"Bon jour!"

And Louvier strode to the door; here he paused: "Take a day to
consider."

"Not a moment."

"Your servant, Monsieur,--your very humble servant." Louvier vanished.

Duplessis leaned his large thoughtful forehead on his thin nervous hand.
"This loan will pinch me," he muttered. "I must be very wary now with
such a foe. Well, why should I care to be rich? Valerie's dot, Valerie's
happiness, are secured."

CHAPTER X.

Madame Savarin wrote a very kind and very apologetic letter to Isaura,
but no answer was returned to it. Madame Savarin did not venture to
communicate to her husband the substance of a conversation which had
ended so painfully. He had, in theory, a delicacy of tact, which, if he
did not always exhibit it in practice, made him a very severe critic of
its deficiency in others. Therefore, unconscious of the offence given,
he made a point of calling at Isaura's apartments, and leaving word with
her servant that "he was sure she would be pleased to hear M. Rameau was
somewhat better, though still in danger."

It was not till the third day after her interview with Madame Savarin
that Isaura left her own room,--she did so to receive Mrs. Morley.

The fair American was shocked to see the change in Isaura's countenance.
She was very pale, and with that indescribable appearance of exhaustion
which betrays continued want of sleep; her soft eyes were dim, the play
of her lips was gone, her light step weary and languid.

"My poor darling!" cried Mrs. Morley, embracing her, "you have indeed
been ill! What is the matter?--who attends you?"

"I need no physician, it was but a passing cold--the air of Paris is
very trying. Never mind me, dear--what is the last news?"

Therewith Mrs. Morley ran glibly through the principal topics of the
hour: the breach threatened between M. Ollivier and his former
liberal partisans; the tone unexpectedly taken by M. de Girardin; the
speculations as to the result of the trial of the alleged conspirators
against the Emperor's life, which was fixed to take place towards the
end of that month of June,--all matters of no slight importance to the
interests of an empire. Sunk deep into the recesses of her fauteuil,
Isaura seemed to listen quietly, till, when a pause came, she said in
cold clear tones:

"And Mr. Graham Vane--he has refused your invitation?"

"I am sorry to say he has--he is so engaged in London