ice. And now, of course, the General was in a vice--although the
chief part in the affair was being played by Mlle. Blanche. Yes, of
this last I had no doubt.

But WHO was this Mlle. Blanche? It was said of her that she was a
Frenchwoman of good birth who, living with her mother, possessed a
colossal fortune. It was also said that she was some relation to the
Marquis, but only a distant one a cousin, or cousin-german, or
something of the sort. Likewise I knew that, up to the time of my
journey to Paris, she and the Frenchman had been more ceremonious
towards our party--they had stood on a much more precise and delicate
footing with them; but that now their acquaintanceship--their
friendship, their intimacy--had taken on a much more off-hand and
rough-and-ready air. Perhaps they thought that our means were too
modest for them, and, therefore, unworthy of politeness or reticence.
Also, for the last three days I had noticed certain looks which Astley
had kept throwing at Mlle. Blanche and her mother; and it had occurred
to me that he must have had some previous acquaintance with the pair. I
had even surmised that the Frenchman too must have met Mr. Astley
before. Astley was a man so shy, reserved, and taciturn in his manner
that one might have looked for anything from him. At all events the
Frenchman accorded him only the slightest of greetings, and scarcely
even looked at him. Certainly he did not seem to be afraid of him;
which was intelligible enough. But why did Mlle. Blanche also never
look at the Englishman?--particularly since, a propos of something or
another, the Marquis had declared the Englishman to be immensely and
indubitably rich? Was not that a sufficient reason to make Mlle.
Blanche look at the Englishman? Anyway the General seemed extremely
uneasy; and, one could well understand what a telegram to announce the
death of his mother would mean for him!

Although I thought it probable that Polina was avoiding me for a
definite reason, I adopted a cold and indifferent air; for I felt
pretty certain that it would not be long before she herself approached
me. For two days, therefore, I devoted my attention to Mlle. Blanche.
The poor General was in despair! To fall in love at fifty-five, and
with such vehemence, is indeed a misfortune! And add to that his
widowerhood, his children, his ruined property, his debts, and the
woman with whom he had fallen in love! Though Mlle. Blanche was
extremely good-looking, I ma