at Francine with a smile of
intelligence which betrayed so much real satisfaction, that Madame du
Gua, who grew prudent as she grew jealous, felt disposed to relinquish
the suspicions which Mademoiselle de Verneuil's great beauty had forced
into her mind.

"It may be Mademoiselle de Verneuil, after all," she whispered to her
son.

"But that escort?" answered the young man, whose vexation at the young
lady's indifference allowed him to be cautious. "Is she a prisoner or an
emissary, a friend or an enemy of the government?"

Madame du Gua made a sign as if to say that she would soon clear up the
mystery.

However, the departure of Corentin seemed to lessen the young man's
distrust, and he began to cast on Mademoiselle de Verneuil certain
looks which betrayed an immoderate admiration for women, rather than
the respectful warmth of a dawning passion. The young girl grew more and
more reserved, and gave all her attentions to Madame du Gua. The youth,
angry with himself, tried, in his vexation, to turn the tables and
seem indifferent. Mademoiselle de Verneuil appeared not to notice this
manoeuvre; she continued to be simple without shyness and reserved
without prudery.

This chance meeting of personages who, apparently, were not destined to
become intimate, awakened no agreeable sympathy on either side. There
was even a sort of vulgar embarrassment, an awkwardness which destroyed
all the pleasure which Mademoiselle de Verneuil and the young sailor
had begun by expecting. But women have such wonderful conventional tact,
they are so intimately allied with each other, or they have such keen
desires for emotion, that they always know how to break the ice on such
occasions. Suddenly, as if the two beauties had the same thought, they
began to tease their solitary knight in a playful way, and were soon
vying with each other in the jesting attention which they paid to him;
this unanimity of action left them free. At the end of half an hour, the
two women, already secret enemies, were apparently the best of friends.
The young man then discovered that he felt as angry with Mademoiselle
de Verneuil for her friendliness and freedom as he had been with her
reserve. In fact, he was so annoyed by it that he regretted, with a sort
of dumb anger, having allowed her to breakfast with them.

"Madame," said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, "is your son always as gloomy
as he is at this moment?"

"Mademoiselle," he replied, "I ask myself what