is the good of a fleeting
happiness. The secret of my gloom is the evanescence of my pleasure."

"That is a madrigal," she said, laughing, "which rings of the Court
rather than the Polytechnique."

"My son only expressed a very natural thought, mademoiselle," said
Madame du Gua, who had her own reasons for placating the stranger.

"Then laugh while you may," said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, smiling at
the young man. "How do you look when you have really something to weep
for, if what you are pleased to call a happiness makes you so dismal?"

This smile, accompanied by a provoking glance which destroyed the
consistency of her reserve, revived the youth's feelings. But inspired
by her nature, which often impels a woman to do either too much or
too little under such circumstances, Mademoiselle de Verneuil, having
covered the young man with that brilliant look full of love's promises,
immediately withdrew from his answering expression into a cold and
severe modesty,--a conventional performance by which a woman sometimes
hides a true emotion. In a moment, a single moment, when each expected
to see the eyelids of the other lowered, they had communicated to one
another their real thoughts; but they veiled their glances as quickly as
they had mingled them in that one flash which convulsed their hearts
and enlightened them. Confused at having said so many things in a
single glance, they dared no longer look at each other. Mademoiselle de
Verneuil withdrew into cold politeness, and seemed to be impatient for
the conclusion of the meal.

"Mademoiselle, you must have suffered very much in prison?" said Madame
du Gua.

"Alas, madame, I sometimes think that I am still there."

"Is your escort sent to protect you, mademoiselle, or to watch you? Are
you still suspected by the Republic?"

Mademoiselle felt instinctively that Madame du Gua had no real interest
in her, and the question alarmed her.

"Madame," she replied, "I really do not know myself the exact nature of
my relations to the Republic."

"Perhaps it fears you?" said the young man, rather satirically.

"We must respect her secrets," interposed Madame du Gua.

"Oh, madame, the secrets of a young girl who knows nothing of life but
its misfortunes are not interesting."

"But," answered Madame du Gua, wishing to continue a conversation which
might reveal to her all that she wanted to know, "the First Consul seems
to have excellent intentions. They say that he is goin