an exact
copy of the stilted prose of the "Indispensable Letter-writer."

It seemed to Pascal as if the scales had suddenly fallen from his eyes,
and that he could now understand the whole intrigue which had been
planned to separate him from Marguerite. His enemies had dishonored him
in the hope that she would reject and scorn him, and, disappointed
in their expectations, they had planned this pretended rupture of the
engagement to prevent him from making any attempt at self-justification.
So, in spite of some short-lived doubts, his love had been more
clear-sighted than reason, and stronger than appearances. He had been
quite right, then, in saying to his mother: "I can never believe that
Marguerite deserts me at a moment when I am so wretched--that she
condemns me unheard, and has no greater confidence in me than in my
accusers. Appearances may indicate the contrary, but I am right."
Certain circumstances, which had previously seemed contradictory,
now strengthened this belief. "How is it," he said to himself, "that
Marguerite writes to me that her father, on his death-bed, made her
promise to renounce me, while Valorsay declares the Count de Chalusse
died so suddenly, that he had not even time to acknowledge his daughter
or to bequeath her his immense fortune? One of these stories must be
false; and which of them? The one in this note most probably. As for the
letter itself, it must have been the work of Madame Leon."

If he had not already possessed irrefutable proofs of this, the
"Indispensable Letter-writer" would have shown it. The housekeeper's
perturbation when she met him at the garden gate was now explained. She
was shuddering at the thought that she might be followed and watched,
and that Marguerite might appear at any moment, and discover everything.

"I think it would be a good plan to let this poor young girl know that
her companion is Valorsay's spy," remarked Madame Ferailleur.

Pascal was about to approve this suggestion, when a sudden thought
deterred him. "They must be watching Marguerite very closely," he
replied, "and if I attempt to see her, if I even venture to write to
her, our enemies would undoubtedly discover it. And then, farewell to
the success of my plans."

"Then you prefer to leave her exposed to these dangers?"

"Yes, even admitting there is danger, which is by no means certain.
Owing to her past life, Marguerite's experience is far in advance of
her years, and if some one told m