ling in love with
me, I won't bear malice, but behave like a generous heroine to my
odious rival here. There, off with you, and let us hear all about it
as soon as you can."

The advice was obviously too sensible to be disregarded, and Isidore at
once proceeded to summon his valet, Monsieur Jasmin, for the purpose of
ordering the horses and packing up for the journey. In the corridor he
came upon the very person he sought, and, perhaps somewhat curtly, gave
him the needful directions.

News travels apace in such households, where there is often enough some
scheming underling, who makes it his business to know everything about
everybody. Monsieur Jasmin had long since satisfied himself that
Mademoiselle Marguerite, and not Mademoiselle Clotilde, had won his
young master's heart; he knew, moreover, that the baroness had set her
heart on a union between the two families, and the rumour that there
had been a scene between madame and the young marquis, and that
Marguerite had fled to Clotilde's boudoir in tears, did not surprise
him much. Nevertheless he affected to be astonished at so abrupt a
departure, and, overdoing his part a little, as the most clever people
sometimes do, he exclaimed--

"But, monsieur, it is impossible! Surely monsieur does not think of
such a thing?"

Isidore had had to suppress much bitterness and vexation during his
interview with the ladies; but little was needed to bring out his
irritation pretty strongly, and Jasmin's opposition did it most
effectually.

"Do as I bid you, insolence!" cried Isidore, turning angrily upon him,
"and lose no time about it, unless you want me to chastise you for a
meddling, impertinent cur." So saying he passed on, whilst the valet
remained standing in the middle of the corridor chafing under this
unexpected rebuff.

The very pink of courteous servility, aping to the utmost pitch the
prevalent extravagance of courtesy, Monsieur Jasmin had ever been too
adroit to bring on himself such a humiliation, and in the few months
during which he had been in Isidore's service he had never even
suspected his master to be capable of such rudeness even to a menial.
He had not yet recovered from the shock when Madame de Valricour came
sweeping along the corridor. He stepped back to allow her to pass, but
instead of doing so, she stopped, and after looking steadily at him for
a few moments, as if she were making up her mind about some
contemplated step, she hastily de