htest doubt that she
rather enjoyed Regnard's humiliation.

"I perceive, Madame," I answered, "that ladies can be cruel as well as
pitiful to a man who loves them."

"Perhaps so," replied Francezka, sitting again, and leaning her head
pensively on her hand. The dog had not stirred a foot from her in this
time, and was watching her with a human look of love and intelligence
in his tawny eyes. "And then Regnard, mastering his rage, said to me:

"'I thought your coldness to me came from a careless and heedless
indifference of an untouched heart. Now I know it to be the steady
deception of a woman already a wife. I could not forget this if I
would, and I would not forget it if I could. I have the honor to bid
you adieu, Madame Cheverny.' And he walked off, looking so like
Gaston! And then I suddenly began to feel frightened at being
frightened--do you know that feeling?"

"Yes," I replied. "It is the form that fear takes with the brave."

"I had thought," said Francezka, "that I was exempt from fear, and
now I find it is my lot, just as much as any one's, to feel fear as
one feels heat or cold or thirst. But fear is the most terrible thing
on earth. And now, Babache, I have opened all my heart to you. It has
been so comforting!"

We talked some time longer. As it seemed the likeliest thing in the
world that I should see Gaston Cheverny shortly, it was agreed that
she should prepare a packet for me that night, which I would take with
me next morning.

The purple twilight had fallen before we quitted the Italian garden,
and went to the chateau. Old Peter was glad to see me, and at supper I
met Madame Chambellan, the ancient _dame de compagnie_, warranted not
to interfere in any way with those she was supposed to watch over. She
promptly went to sleep as soon as supper was over, when we went to the
little yellow saloon. This room, Francezka had lined with books. I
found she was fast becoming learned. Her naturally active mind must
exercise itself on something in solitude, and she seized upon books
and music with avidity. I found out that nothing so far had been heard
of poor Lisa, although Jacques Haret had been seen of late in
Brussels. Francezka was firmly of the belief that the burning of
Gaston Cheverny's house had been instigated by that scoundrel of a
Jacques Haret, in revenge for the beating Gaston had given him.

We remained late, and after old Peter had shown me to my former
chamber, I had some wakeful hours