sh embroidered in dull gold. The bed seemed one mass
of lace.

"Has everybody gone?" asked Jeanne, pretending to yawn.

"Messieurs Le Brede and Du Tremblay, the last guests, are just putting on
their overcoats," answered the maid. "But Monsieur Pierre Delarue has
come back, and is asking whether Madame will speak with him for a
moment."

"Monsieur Delarue?" repeated Jeanne, with astonishment.

"He says he has something important to say to Madame."

"Where is he?" asked Jeanne.

"There, in the gallery. The lights were being put out in the
drawing-room."

"Well, show him in."

The maid went out. Jeanne, much puzzled, asked herself, what could have
brought Pierre back? It must certainly be something very important. She
had always felt somewhat awed in Pierre's presence. At that moment the
idea of being face to face with the young man was most distressing to
her.

A curtain was lifted and Pierre appeared. He remained silent and confused
at the entrance of the room, his courage had deserted him.

"Well," said Jeanne, with assumed stiffness, "whatever is the matter, my
friend?"

"The matter is, my dear Jeanne," began Pierre, "that--"

But the explanation did not seem so very easy to give, for he stopped and
could not go on.

"That?" repeated Madame Cayrol.

"I beg your pardon," resumed Pierre. "I am greatly embarrassed. In coming
here I obeyed a sudden impulse. I did not think of the manner in which I
should tell you what I have to say, and I see that I shall have to run a
great risk of offending you."

Jeanne assumed a haughty air.

"Well, but, my dear friend, if what you have to say is so difficult,
don't say it."

"Impossible!" retorted Pierre. "My silence would cause irreparable
mischief. In mercy, Jeanne, make my task easier! Meet me half way! You
have projects for to-night which are known. Danger threatens you. Take
care!"

Jeanne shuddered. But controlling herself, she answered, laughing
nervously:

"What rubbish are you talking about? I am at home, surrounded by my
servants, and I have nothing to fear. I beg of you to believe me."

"You deny it!" exclaimed Pierre. "I expected as much. But you are only
taking useless trouble. Come, Jeanne, I am the friend of your childhood;
you have no reason to fear aught from me. I am only trying to be of use
to you. You must know that, by my coming here, I know all. Jeanne, listen
to me!"

"Are you mad?" interrupted the young woman, proudly, "or are you