the word
"madame"; "there are two demoiselles de Verneuil; all great houses, as
you know, have several branches."

The lady, surprised at this freedom, drew back a few steps to examine
the speaker; she turned her black eyes upon him, full of the keen
sagacity so natural to women, seeking apparently to discover in what
interest he stepped forth to explain Mademoiselle de Verneuil's birth.
Corentin, on the other hand, who was studying the lady cautiously,
denied her in his own mind the joys of motherhood and gave her those
of love; he refused the possession of a son of twenty to a woman whose
dazzling skin, and arched eyebrows, and lashes still unblemished, were
the objects of his admiration, and whose abundant black hair, parted
on the forehead into simple bands, bought out the youthfulness of an
intelligent head. The slight lines of the brow, far from indicating age,
revealed young passions. Though the piercing eyes were somewhat veiled,
it was either from the fatigue of travelling or the too frequent
expression of excitement. Corentin remarked that she was wrapped in a
mantle of English material, and that the shape of her hat, foreign no
doubt, did not belong to any of the styles called Greek, which ruled the
Parisian fashions of the period. Corentin was one of those beings who
are compelled by the bent of their natures to suspect evil rather than
good, and he instantly doubted the citizenship of the two travellers.
The lady, who, on her side, had made her observations on the person of
Corentin with equal rapidity, turned to her son with a significant look
which may be faithfully translated into the words: "Who is this queer
man? Is he of our stripe?"

To this mute inquiry the youth replied by an attitude and a gesture
which said: "Faith! I can't tell; but I distrust him." Then, leaving his
mother to fathom the mystery, he turned to the landlady and whispered:
"Try to find out who that fellow is; and whether he is really
accompanying the young lady; and why."

"So," said Madame du Gua, looking at Corentin, "you are quite sure,
citizen, that Mademoiselle de Verneuil is living?"

"She is living in flesh and blood as surely, _madame_, as the citizen du
Gua Saint-Cyr."

This answer contained a sarcasm, the hidden meaning of which was known
to none but the lady herself, and any one but herself would have been
disconcerted by it. Her son looked fixedly at Corentin, who coolly
pulled out his watch without appearing to n