; but what is more admirable still is the way in which she
conceals the suffering that she endures from her parents. Noble-hearted
girl! she is calm and silent, but she has always been so. She has grown
thinner, and perhaps her cheek is a trifle paler, but her forehead
was burning and seemed to scorch my lips as I kissed her. With this
exception, however, there was nothing else about her that would betray
her tortures. Modeste, her maid, told me, moreover, that when night came
she seemed utterly worn out, and the poor girl, with tears in her eyes,
declared 'that her dear mistress was killing herself.'"

Andre's eyes overflowed with tears.

"What have I done to deserve such love?" asked he.

A door suddenly opened, and Andre and the Viscountess turned hastily at
the sound. It was Van Klopen who came in, crying, according to his usual
custom,--

"Well, and whose turn is it next?"

When, however, he saw Gaston, his face grew white, and it was with a
smile that he stepped towards him, motioning back the lady whose turn it
was, and who protested loudly against this injustice.

"Ah, M. de Gandelu," said he, "you have come, I suppose, to bespeak some
fresh toilettes for that exquisite creature, Zora de Chantemille?"

"Not to-day," returned Gaston. "Zora is a little indisposed."

Andre, however, who had arranged the narrative that he was about to pour
into the ears of the famous Van Klopen, was in too much haste to permit
of any unnecessary delay.

"We have come here," said he hurriedly, "upon a matter of some moment.
My friend, M. Gaston de Gandelu, is about to leave Paris for some
months, and, before doing so, is anxious to settle all outstanding
accounts, and retire all his bills, which may not yet have fallen due."

"Have I any bills of M. de Gandelu?" said Van Klopen slowly. "Ah, yes,
I remember that I had some now. Yes, five bills of one thousand francs
each, drawn by Gandelu, and accepted by Martin Rigal. I received them
from the Mutual Loan Society, but they are no longer in my hands."

"Is that the case?" murmured Gaston, growing sick with apprehension.

"Yes, I sent them to my cloth merchants at St. Etienne, Rollon and
Company."

Van Klopen was a clever scoundrel, but he sometimes lacked the necessary
perception of when he had said enough; and this was proved to-day, for,
agitated by the steady gaze that Andre kept upon him, he added,--

"If you do not believe my word, I can show you the acknowledgment