aunt, remain here in the passage,
and give us warning, if anybody should come."

"You do not think of it, dear child. Would it be proper?"

The young girl stopped her again.

"Was it proper when I came and spent a night here? Alas! in our
position, every thing is proper that may be useful."

And, as Aunt Lavarande made no reply, she felt sure of her perfect
submission, and went on towards the parlor.

"Dionysia!" cried Jacques as soon as she entered,--"Dionysia!"

He was standing in the centre of this mournful hall, looking whiter than
the whitewash on the wall, but apparently calm, and almost smiling. The
violence with which he controlled himself was horrible. But how could he
allow his betrothed to see his despair? Ought he not, on the contrary,
do every thing to reassure her?

He came up to her, took her hands in his, and said,--

"Ah, it is so kind in you to come! and yet I have looked for you ever
since the morning. I have been watching and waiting, and trembling at
every noise. But will you ever forgive me for having made you come to
a place like this, untidy and ugly, without the fatal poetry of horror
even?"

She looked at him with such obstinate fixedness, that the words expired
on his lips.

"Why will you tell me a falsehood?" she said sadly.

"I tell you a falsehood!"

"Yes. Why do you affect this gayety and tranquillity, which are so far
from your heart? Have you no longer confidence in me? Do you think I am
a child, from whom the truth must be concealed, or so feeble and good
for nothing, that I cannot bear my share of your troubles? Do not smile,
Jacques; for I know you have no hope."

"You are mistaken, Dionysia, I assure you."

"No, Jacques. They are concealing something from me, I know, and I do
not ask you to tell me what it is. I know quite enough. You will have to
appear in court."

"I beg your pardon. That question has not yet been decided."

"But it will be decided, and against you."

Jacques knew very well it would be so, and dreaded it; but he still
insisted upon playing his part.

"Well," he said, "if I appear in court, I shall be acquitted."

"Are you quite sure of that?"

"I have ninety-nine chances out of a hundred for me."

"There is one, however, against you," cried the young girl. And seizing
Jacques's hands, and pressing them with a force of which he would never
have suspected her, she added,--

"You have no right to run that one chance."

Jacques trembled in