augur
well. At the sight of the letter and on hearing my comment, her tears
began to flow so copiously that I feared an attack of nerves, and,
calling Nanine, I put her to bed, where she wept without a word, but
held my hands and kissed them every moment.

I asked Nanine if, during my absence, her mistress had received any
letter or visit which could account for the state in which I found her,
but Nanine replied that no one had called and nothing had been sent.

Something, however, had occurred since the day before, something which
troubled me the more because Marguerite concealed it from me.

In the evening she seemed a little calmer, and, making me sit at the
foot of the bed, she told me many times how much she loved me. She
smiled at me, but with an effort, for in spite of herself her eyes were
veiled with tears.

I used every means to make her confess the real cause of her distress,
but she persisted in giving me nothing but vague reasons, as I have
told you. At last she fell asleep in my arms, but it was the sleep which
tires rather than rests the body. From time to time she uttered a cry,
started up, and, after assuring herself that I was beside her, made me
swear that I would always love her.

I could make nothing of these intermittent paroxysms of distress, which
went on till morning. Then Marguerite fell into a kind of stupor. She
had not slept for two nights.

Her rest was of short duration, for toward eleven she awoke, and, seeing
that I was up, she looked about her, crying:

"Are you going already?"

"No," said I, holding her hands; "but I wanted to let you sleep on. It
is still early."

"What time are you going to Paris?"

"At four."

"So soon? But you will stay with me till then?"

"Of course. Do I not always?"

"I am so glad! Shall we have lunch?" she went on absentmindedly.

"If you like."

"And then you will be nice to me till the very moment you go?"

"Yes; and I will come back as soon as I can."

"You will come back?" she said, looking at me with haggard eyes.

"Naturally."

"Oh, yes, you will come back to-night. I shall wait for you, as I always
do, and you will love me, and we shall be happy, as we have been ever
since we have known each other."

All these words were said in such a strained voice, they seemed to hide
so persistent and so sorrowful a thought, that I trembled every moment
lest Marguerite should become delirious.

"Listen," I said. "You are ill. I can not le