friend to the hall door, heard the
sound of his motor-car die away in the distance, and then walked across
the hall and, instead of going back to the smoking-room, turned into the
adjoining drawing-room. He paused for a moment in the doorway, tenderly
contemplating the charming spectacle that met his eyes.

The shaded light from an electric lamp fell upon the bent head, oval
face and delicate features of Therese Auvernois, who was intent upon a
book. The girl was emerging from childhood into young womanhood now, and
sorrow had heightened her natural distinction by giving her a stamp of
gravity that was new. Her figure showed slight and supple, delicate and
graceful, and her long, tapered fingers turned over the pages of the
book with slow and regular movement. Therese looked round towards
Etienne Rambert when she heard him coming in, and laying down her book
she came forward to meet him, moving with a very graceful, easy
carriage.

"I am sure I am keeping you up most dreadfully late, dear M. Rambert,"
she said apologetically, "but what am I to do? I must wait for the
Baronne de Vibray, and the dear thing is so often late!"

The tragedy at the chateau of Beaulieu had had one effect in knitting
all the friends of the Marquise de Langrune in closer bonds of
friendship. Prior to that event Etienne Rambert had scarcely known the
Baronne de Vibray; now the two were intimate friends. The Baronne had
not desisted from her first generous effort until she had persuaded the
family council to appoint her guardian of the orphaned Therese
Auvernois. At first she had installed the child at Querelles, and
remained there with her, leading the quietest possible life, partly out
of respect for Therese's grief, and partly because she herself was also
much upset by the distressing tragedy. She had even enjoyed the rest,
and her new interest in playing mother, or rather elder sister, to
Therese. But as the weeks went by and time accomplished its healing
work, Paris called to the Baronne once more, and yielding to the
solicitations of her many friends she brought her new ward to the
capital and settled in a little flat in the rue Boissy-d'Anglais. At
first she protested that she would go out nowhere, or at most pay only
absolutely necessary visits, but by degrees she accepted first one and
then many invitations, though always deploring the necessity of leaving
Therese for several hours at a time.

Happily there was always Etienne Rambert,