had left the chateau in
company with Mademoiselle de Valricour, and that they had not since
returned. Utterly at a loss to account for so strange a proceeding,
the baroness prepared to hasten home at once, but finally resolved
first to make sure that the plot against Marguerite, which she deemed
of the greatest moment, had been successful; and she accordingly set
out for the convent. It was a ride of some hours' length, and she did
not arrive until the afternoon was well advanced. Imagine her
amazement and anger when, after hearing from the Superior an account of
her interview with the young lady, she satisfied herself beyond a doubt
that Clotilde was really there, and that it must have been Marguerite
with whom Isidore had escaped from Valricour.

"Bid Monsieur de Crillon wait for me when he arrives," said she. "I
shall want his help more than ever. In the meanwhile I will go and
inform the cure that his services will not be required at present. I
will then see my daughter, and take her home."

The little dwelling of Pere Hypolite was at no great distance from the
convent, and the baroness soon reached the small but exquisite garden,
in which she found the priest busily engaged in planting out his choice
flowers for the summer. A little later in the year and those flowers
would outshine even the gay and splendid costume in which the baroness
had hastily quitted the Chateau de Beaujardin. The unwonted appearance
of a lady in such brilliant attire at once attracted the attention of
Pere Hypolite, who bowed respectfully as she approached him.

"You are Father Hypolite, the cure of St. Sulpice--is it not so?" said
she. The old man bowed assent. "I have come to tell you that the
marriage you were to have solemnised cannot take place to-day."

Pere Hypolite looked somewhat surprised.

"The marriage!" said he. "I do not quite understand your ladyship."

"I mean the marriage of Mademoiselle Lacroix and a gentleman of rank
who was to come here for the purpose," rejoined the lady. "The Lady
Superior told me that you had been directed to hold yourself in
readiness to perform the rite."

"The marriage of Mademoiselle Lacroix!" replied the priest, apparently
amazed. "There must be some mistake. I did receive the directions of
the Lady Superior, and the marriage took place this morning."

"This morning! Are you mad?" retorted the baroness. "What marriage?"

"The marriage of Mademoiselle Lacroix with the you