been merrier in a school-girl frolic or more ready with gibe and jest
and laughter. She sang her best songs, putting her whole soul into
them--"Si tu savais comme je l'aime." Rene Vergniaud was so dazed that
he came near bidding farewell to his senses for ever. He evidently
thought that all this brilliancy was for him, and was in such a rapture
of delight that he never noticed Madame Le Fort's repeated glances at
the clock, and was only roused by the polite invitation to come
_again_. He was not too disconcerted to make a charming apology,
like a true Parisian, and tore himself away.

Late as it was, as soon as we were in our own little parlor I could not
forbear saying, "I was surprised at you to-night, Helen. How
_could_ you run on so? Madame Le Turc there, too! and you know the
young French girls never open their lips to say more than 'Oui,
monsieur'--'Non, monsieur,' to a gentleman. What will M. Vergniaud
think?"

"I don't care what he thinks," flinging herself down on an ottoman with
her head in my lap; "but I _do_ care what you think, Madame
Fleming. Did I behave so very badly? I didn't mean to, but I was
resolved he should not get a chance to talk any nonsense to-night; and
he _did_, after all. I hate being made love to before a whole room
full. I _had_ to laugh or else cry." And the little fairy dissolved
in a shower of tears, like another Undine.

Another week went by. On Saturday afternoon Helen asked, "Will you be so
kind as to take me to the little Protestant church beyond the Arc
d'Etoile this evening, Madame Fleming? I should like so much to hear
that good M. Bercier."

"So should I. But you have not forgotten that M. Vergniaud will be
here."

"I am under no obligation to entertain Madame Le Fort's callers."

"But you know, Helen, that he comes for your sake. It is well for you to
consider that the future Madame Vergniaud will have in some respects a
more brilliant position than perhaps any man in our country could offer
you."

"I know all that, and I don't pretend to say that I should not like it.
I am ashamed of being so worldly, but to have a superb establishment and
all this charming Parisian society, and give a grand ball whenever I
liked, would be just paradise. And to have it all in my grasp, and not
be able to take it, is too aggravating. It is so vexatious that the
right man never has the right things."

We went to church. M. Vergniaud called, but recollected an engagement
which took