s last doubts began to vanish.

"You won't succeed, my poor girl," he said.

"O God!" she replied, checking her tears with difficulty, "why will you
discourage me?"

He said nothing. Suppressing a sigh, he pulled the papers out of his
pockets, and helped Dionysia to stuff them, as well as she could, into
her pocket and a little bag she had in her hand. When she had done, she
said,--

"Well, good-bye, grandpapa. I won't be long."

And lightly, like a bird, she crossed the street, and ran up to her
dressmakers. The old ladies and their brother were just finishing their
supper, which consisted of a small piece of port and a light salad, with
an abundance of vinegar. At the unexpected entrance of Miss Chandore
they all started up.

"You, miss," cried the elder of the two,--"you!"

Dionysia understood perfectly well what that simple "you" meant. It
meant, with the help of the tone of voice, "What? your betrothed is
charged with an abominable crime; there is overwhelming evidence against
him; he is in jail, in close confinement; everybody knows he will be
tried at the assizes, and he will be condemned--and you are here?"

But Dionysia kept on smiling, as she had entered.

"Yes," she replied, "it is I. I must have two dresses for next week; and
I come to ask you to show me some samples."

The Misses Mechinet, always acting upon their brother's advice, had made
an arrangement with a large house in Bordeaux, by which they received
samples of all their goods, and were allowed a discount on whatever they
sold.

"I will do so with pleasure," said the older sister. "Just allow me to
light a lamp. It is almost dark."

While she was wiping the chimney, and trimming the wick, she asked her
brother,--

"Are you not going to the Orpheon?"

"Not to-night," he replied.

"Are you not expected to be there?"

"No: I sent them word I would not come. I have to lithograph two plates
for the printer, and some very urgent copying to do for the court."

While he was thus replying, he had folded up his napkin, and lighted a
candle.

"Good-night!" he said to his sisters. "I won't see you again to-night,"
and, bowing deeply to Miss Chandore, he went out, his candle in his
hand.

"Where is your brother going?" Dionysia asked eagerly.

"To his room, madam. His room is just opposite on the other side of the
staircase."

Dionysia was as red as fire. Was she thus to let her opportunity
slip,--an opportunity such as she had neve