ache, had
left untouched. As if abstractedly, he now took up the beaker, pledged
madame with his glance, and drank. She watched him, and suddenly a
suspicion darted through her mind--a suspicion that he suspected them.

Dieu! What a man was this! He took no chances. Madame reflected that
this augured ill for the success of the last resource upon which, should
all else fail, she was counting to keep mademoiselle at Condillac. It
seemed incredible that one so wary and watchful should have committed
the rashness of venturing alone into Condillac without taking his
precautions to ensure his ability to retreat.

In her heart she felt daunted by him. But in the matter of that
wine--the faintest of smiles hovered on her lips, her eyebrows went up
a shade. Then she took up the cup that had been poured for the Parisian,
and bore it to her son.

"Marius, you are not drinking," said she. And seeing a command in her
eyes; he took the beaker from her hand and bore it to his lips, emptying
the half of it, whilst with the faintest smile of scorn the Dowager
swept Garnache a glance of protest, as of one repudiating an unworthy
challenge.

Then the door opened, and the eyes of all three were centred upon the
girl that entered.

CHAPTER V. MONSIEUR DE GARNACHE LOSES HIS TEMPER

"You sent for me, madame," said the girl, seeming to hesitate upon the
threshold of the room, and her voice--a pleasant, boyish contralto--was
very cold and conveyed a suggestion of disdain.

The Marquise detected that inauspicious note, and was moved by it to
regret her already of having embarked upon so bold a game as to confront
Monsieur de Garnache with Valerie. It was a step she had decided upon
as a last means of convincing the Parisian of the truth of her statement
touching the change that had taken place in mademoiselle's inclinations.
And she had provided for it as soon as she heard of Garnache's arrival
by informing mademoiselle that should she be sent for, she must tell
the gentleman from Paris that it was her wish to remain at Condillac.
Mademoiselle had incontinently refused, and madame, to win her
compliance, had resorted to threats.

"You will do as you consider best, of course," she had said, in a voice
that was ominously sweet. "But I promise you that if you do otherwise
than as I tell you, you shall be married before sunset to Marius,
whether you be willing or not. Monsieur de Garnache comes alone, and if
I so will it alone he s