to you one day?"

She had leaned gently toward Lissac and her elbows grazed the knees of
her former lover.

"I would wear, that day, one of those otter-trimmed toques that you have
not forgotten."

She saw that he trembled, as if he were moved by some unsatisfied desire
for her. She felt reassured.

"Nonsense!" she said with a smiling face. "You are not so bad as you
pretend to be."

The manager tapped the customary three blows behind the curtain, and the
orchestra began the prelude to the third act.

"Adieu for a brief period, my enemy!" said Marianne, extending her hand.

He hesitated to take that hand. At length, taking it in his own, he
said:

"Leave me Rosas!"

"Fie! jealous one! Don't I leave Vaudrey to you?"

She laughed, while Lissac went away dissatisfied.

"I will have my letters, at all risks," thought Marianne when he had
disappeared. "It is more prudent."

That night she slept badly, and the following morning rose in a very
ill-humor. Her face expressed fatigue, her eyes were encircled with dark
rings and burned feverishly, but withal, her beauty was heightened. All
the morning she debated as to the course she should take, and finally
decided to write to Guy, when Sulpice Vaudrey arrived, and beaming with
delight, informed Marianne that he had the entire day to spend with her.

"I learned through Jouvenet this morning that you were able to go to the
theatre. Naughty one, to steal an evening from me. But I have all
to-day, at least."

And he sat down in the salon like a man spreading himself out in his own
house. Marianne was meditating some scheme to get rid of him when the
chamber-maid entered, presenting a note on a tray.

"What is that?"

"A messenger, madame, has brought this letter."

Marianne read the paper hurriedly.

Vaudrey observed that she blushed slightly.

"Is the messenger still there, Justine?"

"No, madame, he is gone. He said that there was no reply."

Marianne quickly tore in small pieces the note she had just read.

"Some annoyance?" asked Vaudrey.

"Yes, exactly."

"May I know?"

"No, it does not interest you. A family affair."

"Ah! your uncle?" asked Vaudrey, smiling.

"My uncle, yes!"

"He has asked that he be permitted to exhibit at the Trocadero the
cartoons that he has finished: _The Artist's Mission_, _Hydropathy the
Civilizer_, I don't know what in fact, a series of symbolical
compositions--"

"With the _mirliton_ device underneath?--Yes, I