selle as in the past," she said, imperiously.
"Anyone forgetting this order will be dismissed."

A maid forgot that very day, and uttered the prohibited word, "madame."
The poor girl was instantly dismissed, in spite of her tears and
protestations.

All the servants were indignant.

"Does she hope to make us forget that she is married and that her
husband has deserted her?" they queried.

Alas! she wished to forget it herself. She wished to annihilate all
recollection of that fatal day whose sun had seen her a maiden, a wife,
and a widow.

For was she not really a widow?

Only it was not death which had deprived her of her husband, but an
odious rival--an infamous and perfidious creature lost to all sense of
shame.

And yet, though she had been disdained, abandoned, and repulsed, she was
no longer free.

She belonged to the man whose name she bore like a badge of
servitude--to the man who hated her, who fled from her.

She was not yet twenty; and this was the end of her youth, of her life,
of her hopes, and even of her dreams.

Society condemned her to solitude, while Martial was free to rove
wheresoever fancy might lead him.

Now she saw the disadvantage of isolating one's self. She had not been
without friends in her school-girl days; but after leaving the convent
she had alienated them by her haughtiness, on finding them not as high
in rank, nor as rich as herself. She was now reduced to the irritating
consolations of Aunt Medea, who was a worthy person, undoubtedly, but
her tears flowed quite as freely for the loss of a cat, as for the death
of a relative.

But Blanche bravely resolved that she would conceal her grief and
despair in the recesses of her own heart.

She drove about the country; she wore the prettiest dresses in her
_trousseau_; she forced herself to appear gay and indifferent.

But on going to attend high mass in Sairmeuse the following Sunday, she
realized the futility of her efforts.

People did not look at her haughtily, or even curiously; but they turned
away their heads to laugh, and she overheard remarks upon the maiden
widow which pierced her very soul.

They mocked her; they ridiculed her!

"Oh! I will have my revenge!" she muttered.

But she had not waited for these insults before thinking of vengeance;
and she had found her father quite ready to assist her in her plans.

For the first time the father and the daughter were in accord.

"The Duc de Sairmeuse shall lea