e does not know even that I am here. But because he is in great,
great misery, and I cannot console him. I have not the power. And he is
all alone--all alone. And I fear--I fear--" He broke off with eloquent
hands outspread. Avery saw the tears standing in his eyes.

She closed the door softly. "What is it?" she said. "Tell me what
you fear!"

He looked at her, mastering his emotion with difficulty.
"_Madame, Monsieur Pierre_ has sentiments the most profound. He
feel--_passionnement_. He try to hide his sentiments from me. But me--I
know. He sit alone in the great hall and look--and look. He sleep--never
at all. He will not even go to bed. And in the great hall is an
_escritoire_, and in it a drawer." Victor's voice sank mysteriously.
"To-night--when he think he is alone--he open that drawer, and I see
inside. It hold a revolver, _madame_. And he look at it, touch it, and
then shake his head. But I am so afraid--so afraid. So--_enfin_--in my
trouble I come to you. You have the influence with him, is it not so? You
have--the power to console. _Madame--chere madame_--will you not come
and speak with him for five little minutes? Just to encourage him,
_madame_, in his sadness; for he is all alone!"

The tears ran down Victor's troubled face as he made his earnest appeal.
He mopped them openly, making no secret of his distress which was too
pathetic to be ludicrous.

Avery looked at him in dismay. She knew not what to say or do; and even
as she stood irresolute the hall-clock struck eleven through the silence
of the house.

Victor watched her anxiously. "_Madame_ is married," he insinuated. "She
can please herself, no? And _Monsieur Pierre_--"

"Wait a minute, please!" she interrupted gently. "I want to think."

She went to the unlatched door and stood with her face to the night. She
felt as if a call had come to her, but somehow--for no selfish
reason--she hesitated to answer. Some unknown influence held her back.

Victor came softly up and stood close to her. "_Madame_," he said in a
whisper, "I tell you a secret--I, Victor, who have known _Monsieur
Pierre_ from his infancy. He loves you, _madame_. He loves you much.
_C'est la grande passion_ which comes only once in a life--only once."

The low words went through her, seeming to sink into her very heart. She
made a slight, involuntary gesture as of wincing. There was something in
them that was almost more than she could bear.

She stood motionless with the chi