ome soon to ask how she was, and place himself at her service.

But the day passed away slowly, and night came; but he did not appear.
What did this mean? What unforeseen event could have happened?
what misfortune could have befallen him? Torn by a thousand wild
apprehensions, Henrietta was more than once on the point of going to his
house.

It was not before two o'clock on the next day that he appeared at last,
affecting an easy air, but evidently very much embarrassed. If he did
not come the night before, he said, it was because he was sure the
Countess Sarah had him watched. The flight of the daughter of Count
Ville-Handry was known all over Paris, and he was suspected of having
aided and abetted her: so they had told him, he said, at his club. He
also added that it would be imprudent in him to stay longer; and he
left again, without having said a word to Henrietta, and without having
apparently noticed her destitution.

And thus, for three days, he only came, to disappear almost instantly.

He always came painfully embarrassed, as if he had something very
important to tell her; then his brow clouded over; and he went away
suddenly, without having said any thing.

Henrietta, tortured by terrible doubts, felt unable to endure this
atrocious uncertainty any longer. She determined to force an explanation
when, on the fourth day, M. de Brevan came in, evidently under the
influence of some terrible determination. As soon as he had entered, he
locked the door, and said in a hoarse voice,--

"I must speak to you, madam, yes, I must!"

He was deadly pale; his white lips trembled; and his eyes shone with
a fearful light, like those of a man who might have sought courage in
strong drink.

"I am ready to listen," replied the poor girl, all trembling.

He hesitated again for a moment; then overcoming his reluctance,
apparently by a great effort, he said,--

"Well, I wish to ask you if you have ever suspected what my real reasons
were for assisting you to escape?"

"I think, sir, you have acted from kind pity for me, and also from
friendship for M. Daniel Champcey."

"No! You are entirely mistaken."

She drew back instinctively, uttering only a low, "Ah!"

Pale as he had been, M. de Brevan had become crimson.

"Have you really noticed nothing? Are you really not aware that I love
you?"

She could understand any thing but this, the unfortunate girl; any thing
but such infamy, such an incredible insult! M. de Br