ng.
"Monsieur Giraud," he said, "I am a man of the world, and also a
lawyer. I suppose I am as charitable as my neighbours. But it is never
wise to trust a single man with a large sum of money. None of us knows
his own weakness. Put not thy neighbour into temptation."
Which sounded like Scripture, and doubtless passed as such. Mr. Devar
nodded easily, smiled like an advertisement of dentifrice, and moved
back to the centre of the room. It naturally fell to him to offer his
arm to the hostess, while Madame accompanied me to the dining-room.
Alphonse and Lucille paired off, as it seemed to me, very naturally.
As we passed down the stairs I fell into thought, and made a mental
survey of all these people as they stood in respect to myself.
Alphonse had progressed, as was visible on his telltale face, from
suspicion to something near hostility. Isabella--always a puzzle--was
more enigmatic than ever; for she showed herself keenly alive to my
faults, and made no concealment of her distrust, though she threw open
her house to me with a persistent and almost anxious hospitality. Here
was no friend. Had I, in Isabella, an enemy? Of Devar, all that I
could conclude was that he was suspicious. His interest in myself was
less gratifying than the deepest indifference. In Madame de Clericy I
had one who wished to be my friend, but her attitude towards me was
inscrutable. She seemed to encourage Alphonse. Did she, like the rest
of them, suspect me of seeking to frustrate his suit by withholding
his fortune? She merely looked at me, and would say no word. And of
Lucille, what could I think but that she hated me?
At dinner we spoke of the siege, and of those sad affairs of France
which drew all men's thoughts at this time. Mr. Devar was, I remember,
well informed on the points of the campaign, and seemed to talk of
them with equal facility in French and English; but I disliked the
man, and determined to make my thoughts known to Isabella.
It was no easy matter to outstay Mr. Devar, but, asserting my position
as an old friend, this was at last accomplished. When we were left
alone, Alphonse must have divined my intention in the quick way that
was natural to him; for he engaged Lucille and her mother in a
discussion of the latest news, which he translated from an evening
paper. Indeed, Lucille and he put their heads together over the
journal, and seemed to find it damnably amusing.
"Isabella," I said, "will you allow me to mak
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