what she was; but many things may be learned in three years. That
creature is a prostitute, and one whose depravity can only be compared
with that of her infamous and horrible husband. You are the dupe, my
lord pot-boiler, of those people; you will be led further by them than
you dream of! I speak plainly, for you are at the bottom of a pit."

The Baroness and her daughter, hearing Lisbeth speak in this style, cast
adoring looks at her, such as the devout cast at a Madonna for having
saved their life.

"That horrible woman was bent on destroying your son-in-law's home.
To what end?--I know not. My brain is not equal to seeing clearly into
these dark intrigues--perverse, ignoble, infamous! Your Madame Marneffe
does not love your son-in-law, but she will have him at her feet out of
revenge. I have just spoken to the wretched woman as she deserves. She
is a shameless courtesan; I have told her that I am leaving her house,
that I would not have my honor smirched in that muck-heap.--I owe myself
to my family before all else.

"I knew that Hortense had left her husband, so here I am. Your
Valerie, whom you believe to be a saint, is the cause of this miserable
separation; can I remain with such a woman? Our poor little Hortense,"
said she, touching the Baron's arm, with peculiar meaning, "is perhaps
the dupe of a wish of such women as these, who, to possess a toy, would
sacrifice a family.

"I do not think Wenceslas guilty; but I think him weak, and I cannot
promise that he will not yield to her refinements of temptation.--My
mind is made up. The woman is fatal to you; she will bring you all to
utter ruin. I will not even seem to be concerned in the destruction of
my own family, after living there for three years solely to hinder it.

"You are cheated, Baron; say very positively that you will have nothing
to say to the promotion of that dreadful Marneffe, and you will see
then! There is a fine rod in pickle for you in that case."

Lisbeth lifted up Hortense and kissed her enthusiastically.

"My dear Hortense, stand firm," she whispered.

The Baroness embraced Lisbeth with the vehemence of a woman who sees
herself avenged. The whole family stood in perfect silence round the
father, who had wit enough to know what that silence implied. A storm
of fury swept across his brow and face with evident signs; the veins
swelled, his eyes were bloodshot, his flesh showed patches of color.
Adeline fell on her knees before him and