to thrill with emotions hitherto unknown to it?
Suppose it had learned to know the true meaning of gratitude--of love?

But five millions of francs!

If she were alone in the world! But there was Amelie, her dear little
daughter, who was now almost fifteen years old--almost a young lady.
Should she leave Amelie in her present disagreeable position, a member
of "Cythera's Brigade," or should she send for her, and confess to the
man whose respect she desired to retain that the child was her daughter,
and that she was a widow? Could she tell him what she had once been?
Would he continue to respect, to love her?

Five millions of francs!

It was an enormous sum, and would become hers if she should order the
carriage, and, taking Marie and the casket with her, drive leisurely
along the highway until stopped by a troop of soldiers that would
suddenly surround the carriage. A politely smiling face would then
appear at the window of the carriage, and a courteous voice would say:

"Don't be alarmed, ladies. You are with friends. We are Frenchmen."

But to renounce the love and respect so hardly won! Ah, how very dearly
she loved the man to whom she had betrothed herself in jest! In jest?
No, no; it was not a jest!

But five millions of francs!

Would all the millions in the world buy one faithful heart?

Katharina was suffering for her transgressions. She had intended to play
with the heart of another, and had lost her own. Besides, she could not
bear to think of betraying the innocent girl who loved and trusted her
and called her "mother."

But time pressed. Three times already Jocrisse had interrupted her
meditations to inquire if her answer to the marquis's letter was ready.
And still she struggled with herself. When Jocrisse appeared again, she
said to him:

"My letter is of such importance that I cannot think of intrusting it
to the hands of a stranger. You yourself, Jocrisse, must take it to the
marquis."

"I am ready to depart at once, madame."

Katharina wrote her reply, sealed it carefully, and gave it to Jocrisse,
who set out at once on his errand.

In the letter he carried were but three words:

"_Io non posso_" ("I cannot").

Katharina locked herself in the pavilion in the park, and gave orders to
the servants not to admit any visitors, whether acquaintances or
strangers.

An hour or more had passed when she heard a timid knock at the door, and
an apologetic voice said:

"A strange gentl