she responded, coldly.

"But you will not say no."

"And why, if you please?"

"Because----"

"Will you go to the authorities and denounce me?"

Aunt Medea shook her head.

"I am not such a fool," she retorted. "I should only compromise myself.
No, I shall not do that; but I might, perhaps, tell your husband what
happened at the Borderie."

Blanche shuddered. No threat was capable of moving her like that.

"You shall accompany us, aunt," said she; "I promise it."

Then she added, gently:

"But it is unnecessary to threaten me. You have been cruel, aunt, and at
the same time, unjust. If you have been unhappy in our house, you alone
are to blame. Why have you said nothing? I attributed your complaisance
to your affection for me. How was I to know that a woman as quiet
and modest as yourself longed for fine apparel. Confess that it was
impossible. Had I known--But rest easy, aunt; I will atone for my
neglect."

And as Aunt Medea, having obtained all she desired, stammered an excuse:

"Nonsense!" Blanche exclaimed; "let us forget this foolish quarrel. You
forgive me, do you not?"

And the two ladies embraced each other with the greatest effusion, like
two friends united after a misunderstanding. But Aunt Medea was as far
from being deceived by this mock reconciliation as the clearsighted
Blanche.

"It will be best for me to keep on the _qui vive_," thought the humble
relative. "God only knows with what intense joy my dear niece would send
me to join Marie-Anne."

Perhaps a similar thought flitted through the mind of Mme. Blanche.

She felt as a convict might feel on seeing his most execrated enemy,
perhaps the man who had betrayed him, fastened to the other end of his
chain.

"I am bound now and forever to this dangerous and perfidious creature,"
she thought. "I am no longer my own mistress; I belong to her. When she
commands, I must obey. I must be the slave of her every caprice--and she
has forty years of humiliation and servitude to avenge."

The prospect of such a life made her tremble; and she racked her brain
to discover some way of freeing herself from her detested companion.

Would it be possible to inspire Aunt Medea with a desire to live
independently in her own house, served by her own servants?

Might she succeed in persuading this silly old woman, who still longed
for finery and ball-dresses, to marry? A handsome marriage-portion will
always attract a husband.

But, in either case, B