heir loved one, and lingered over every sentence.
Jeanne, transported from the deepest despair to a kind of intoxication
of joy, began to take Paul's part.

"Now he has written, he will come back," she said. "I am sure he will
come back."

"Still he left us for this creature," said the baron, who was calm
enough to reason; "and he must love her better than he does us, since he
did not hesitate in his choice between her and his home."

The words sent a pang of anguish through Jeanne's heart, and within her
sprang up the fierce, deadly hatred of a jealous mother against the
woman who had robbed her of her son. Until then her every thought had
been, for Paul, and she had hardly realized that this creature was the
cause of all his errors; but the baron's argument had suddenly brought
this rival who possessed such fatal influence vividly to her mind, and
she felt that between this woman and herself there must be a determined,
bitter warfare. With that thought came another one as terrible--that
she would rather lose her son than share him with this other; and all
her joy and delight vanished.

The fifteen thousand francs were sent, and for five months nothing more
was heard of Paul. At the end of that time a lawyer came to the chateau
to see about his inheritance. Jeanne and the baron acceded to all his
demands without any dispute, even giving up the money to which the
mother had a right for her lifetime, and when he returned to Paris, Paul
found himself the possessor of a hundred and twenty thousand francs.
During the next six months only four short letters were received from
him, giving news of his doings in a few, concise sentences, and ending
with formal protestations of affection.

"I am not idle," he said. "I have obtained a post in connection with the
Stock Exchange, and I hope some day to see my dear relations at Les
Peuples."

He never mentioned his mistress, but his silence was more significant
than if he had written four pages about her; and, in these icy letters,
Jeanne could perceive the influence of this unknown woman who was, by
instinct, the implacable enemy of every mother.

Ponder as they would, the three lonely beings at the chateau could think
of no means by which they might rescue Paul from his present life. They
would have gone to Paris, but they knew that would be no good.

"We must let his passion wear itself out," said the baron; "sooner or
later he will return to us of his own accord." And t