in particular, which in spite of all combing and
brushing would break away from the rest, and fall in careless curls.
Madame de Tecle finally, by the aid of some ribbons, fastened down the
rebellious curl:

"Now I think it will do," she said sighing, and stepping back to admire
the effect of her work.

"Don't believe it," said Marie, who was laughing and mocking. "I do not
think so. I see exactly what will happen: the bell rings--I run out--my
net gives way--Monsieur de Camors walks in--my mother is
annoyed--tableau!"

"I should like to know what Monsieur de Camors has to do with it?" said
Madame de Tecle.

Her daughter threw her arms around her neck--"Nothing!" she said.

Another time Madame de Tecle detected her speaking of M. de Camors in a
tone of bitter irony. He was "the great man"--"the mysterious
personage"--"the star of the neighborhood"--"the phoenix of guests in
their woods"--or simply "the Prince!"

Such symptoms were of so serious a nature as not to escape Madame de
Tecle.

In presence of "the Prince," it is true, the young girl lost her gayety;
but this was another cross. Her mother found her cold, awkward, and
silent--brief, and slightly caustic in her replies. She feared M. de
Camors would misjudge her from such appearances.

But Camors formed no judgment, good or bad; Mademoiselle de Tecle was for
him only an insignificant little girl, whom he never thought of for a
moment in the year.

There was, however, at this time in society a person who did interest him
very much, and the more because against his will. This was the Marquise
de Campvallon, nee de Luc d'Estrelles.

The General, after making the tour of Europe with his young wife, had
taken possession of his hotel in the Rue Vanneau, where he lived in great
splendor. They resided at Paris during the winter and spring, but in July
returned to their chateau at Campvallon, where they entertained in great
state until the autumn. The General invited Madame de Tecle and her
daughter, every year, to pass some weeks at Campvallon, rightly judging
that he could not give his young wife better companions. Madame de Tecle
accepted these invitations cheerfully, because it gave her an opportunity
of seeing the elite of the Parisian world, from whom the whims of her
uncle had always isolated her. For her own part, she did not much enjoy
it; but her daughter, by moving in the midst of such fashion and elegance
could thus efface some provincialisms of to