erfect
happiness? Oh! I love him, and love alone is love's reward. And yet, I
think God means to recompense me for taking heart through all my misery;
he means me to forget my sufferings--for you know, Francine, I have
suffered."

"To-night, Marquise de Montauran, you, Marie? Ah! until it is done I
cannot believe it! Who has told him your true goodness?"

"Dear child! he has more than his handsome eyes to see me with, he has
a soul. If you had seen him, as I have, in danger! Oh! he knows how to
love--he is so brave!"

"If you really love him why do you let him come to Fougeres?"

"We had no time to say one word to each other when the Blues surprised
us. Besides, his coming is a proof of love. Can I ever have proofs
enough? And now, Francine, do my hair."

But she pulled it down a score of times with motions that seemed
electric, as though some stormy thoughts were mingling still with the
arts of her coquetry. As she rolled a curl or smoothed the shining
plaits she asked herself, with a remnant of distrust, whether the
marquis were deceiving her; but treachery seemed to her impossible, for
did he not expose himself to instant vengeance by entering Fougeres?
While studying in her mirror the effects of a sidelong glance, a smile,
a gentle frown, an attitude of anger, or of love, or disdain, she was
seeking some woman's wile by which to probe to the last instant the
heart of the young leader.

"You are right, Francine," she said; "I wish with you that the marriage
were over. This is the last of my cloudy days--it is big with death or
happiness. Oh! that fog is dreadful," she went on, again looking towards
the heights of Saint-Sulpice, which were still veiled in mist.

She began to arrange the silk and muslin curtains which draped the
window, making them intercept the light and produce in the room a
voluptuous chiaro-scuro.

"Francine," she said, "take away those knick-knacks on the mantelpiece;
leave only the clock and the two Dresden vases. I'll fill those vases
myself with the flowers Corentin brought me. Take out the chairs, I want
only this sofa and a fauteuil. Then sweep the carpet, so as to bring out
the colors, and put wax candles in the sconces and on the mantel."

Marie looked long and carefully at the old tapestry on the walls.
Guided by her innate taste she found among the brilliant tints of these
hangings the shades by which to connect their antique beauty with the
furniture and accessories of the bou