ders in this room. My mother, for instance,--you perceive that
her pavilion would be the florid Gothic."

"Mademoiselle's is the Doric," I said.

"Has been," she murmured, with a quick glance.

"And mine, Mademoiselle?" asked the Baron, indifferently.

"Ah, Monsieur," she returned, looking serenely upon him, "when one has
all the winning cards in hand and yet loses the stake, we allot him _un
pavilion chinois"_--which was the polite way of dubbing him Court Fool.

The Baron's eyes fell. Vexation and alarm were visible on his contracted
brow. He stood in meditation for some time. It must have been evident to
him that Delphine knew of the recent occurrences,--that here in Paris
she could denounce him as the agent of a felony, the participant of a
theft. What might prevent it? Plainly but one thing: no woman would
denounce her husband. He had scarcely contemplated this step on arrival.

The guests were again scattered in groups round the room. I examined
an engraving on an adjacent table. Delphine reclined as lazily in a
_fauteuil_ as if her life did not hang in the balance. The Baron drew
near.

"Mademoiselle," said he, "you allotted me just now a cap and bells.
If two should wear it?--if I should invite another into my _pavilion
chinois_?--if I should propose to complete an alliance, desired by my
father, with the ancient family of St. Cyr?--if, in short, Mademoiselle,
I should request you to become my wife?"

"Eh, bien, Monsieur,--and if you should?" I heard her coolly reply.

But it was no longer any business of mine. I rose and sought Mme. de St.
Cyr, who, I thought, was slightly uneasy, perceiving some mystery to be
afloat. After a few words, I retired.

Archimedes, as perhaps you have never heard, needed only a lever to move
the world. Such a lever I had put into the hands of Delphine, with
which she might move, not indeed the grand globe, with its multiplied
attractions, relations, and affinities, but the lesser world of
circumstances, of friends and enemies, the circle of hopes, fears,
ambitions. There is no woman, as I believe, but could have used it.

The next day was scarcely so quiet in the city as usual. The great loan
had not been negotiated. Both the Baron Stahl and the English minister
had left Paris,--and there was a _coup d'etat_.

But the Baron did not travel alone. There had been a ceremony at
midnight in the Church of St. Sulpice, and her Excellency the Baroness
Stahl, _nee_ de St. Cyr, a