he sped swiftly toward the other end of the lake.

Stung to the quick by his glance, Mademoiselle de Vermont darted after
him, passed him halfway along the course, and, wheeling around with a
wide, outward curve, her body swaying low, she allowed him to pass before
her, maintaining an attitude which her antagonist might interpret as a
salute, courteous or ironic, as he chose.

By this time the crowd was gradually diminishing. The daylight was
waning, and a continued sound of closing gates announced the retreat of
the gay world toward Paris.

Zibeline alone, taking advantage of the free field, lingered a few
moments to execute some evolutions in the deepening twilight, looking
like the heroines in the old ballads, half-visible, through the mists, \
to the vivid imagination of the Scottish bards.

Henri de Prerolles had entered his sister's carriage, in company with
Madame Desvanneaux and Madame Thomery, and during the drive home, these
two gentle dames--for the daughter was worthy of the mother--did not fail
to sneer at the fair stranger, dilating particularly upon the impropriety
of the challenging salute she had given to the General, with whom she was
unacquainted.

"But my brother could hardly request his seconds to call upon her for
that!" laughingly said the Duchess who, it seemed, had decided to defend
the accused one in all attacks made upon her.

"Look! Here she comes! She is passing us again. One would think she was
deliberately trying to do it!" exclaimed Madame Desvanneaux, just before
their carriage reached the Arc de Triomphe.

Zibeline's sleigh, which had glided swiftly, and without hindrance, along
the unfrequented track used chiefly by equestrians, had indeed overtaken
the Duchess's carriage. Turning abruptly to the left, it entered the open
gateway belonging to one of the corner houses of the Rond-Point de
l'Etoile.

"Decidedly, the young lady is very fond of posing," said the General,
with a shrug, and, settling himself in his corner, he turned his thoughts
elsewhere.

Having deposited her two friends at their own door, the Duchess ordered
the coachman to take her home, and at the foot of the steps she said to
her brother:

"Will you dine with us to-night?"

"No, not to-night," he replied, "but we shall meet at the theatre."

And, crossing the court, he entered his little bachelor apartment, which
he had occupied from time to time since the days when he was only a
sub-lieutenant.