he muttered, "have a care lest I strike you! There are
some things I cannot stand, even from you."

"Strike! I would rather that than anything else from you."

He glared at me fiercely for a moment, then suddenly changing, he
whispered, entreatingly: "Marguerite, do not tempt me thus. Do not
bring out all that is worst in me. You know I love you."

"I will not have your love; it is hateful to me."

"Why should my love be hateful? It is not different from that of
other men! It is as strong--so strong that I cannot master it. It
is as tender, if you will but answer it. It is not to be despised,
for I have never offered it to another; and as for myself, God made
me as I am."

"I will not have your love, M. de Sarennes. I will not answer it,
and you degrade it when you would force it on me. Go, and leave me
in peace!"

"Marguerite, you know nothing of my love. It counts neither insult
nor rejection. If you will have it in no other way, let me at least
serve you. Let me take up your quarrel."

"What do you mean?"

"This Maxwell. Say so, and I will hunt him down, and never leave
him until you are revenged."

"Are you mad, monsieur?"

"No, mademoiselle, I am not mad! But are you shameless?"

Trembling with indignation, I drew my cloak about me, and sweeping
aside the curtain, I stepped out on the floor of the lighted
ball-room. As I passed, the curtain caught my hood, and, to my
annoyance, it fell back from my head. The full glare of the light
was dazzling, and I was bewildered and confused, but I kept my eyes
fixed on the doorway and walked swiftly towards it. No one spake
to me, or uttered any exclamation of surprise. Two gentlemen
stepped apart as I advanced to allow me free passage, and I had
just gained the entrance when I came face to face with the Marquis
de Montcalm.

Without the slightest hesitation he bowed, and at once stepped back
into the corridor with me.

"Ah, madame, you should have been on the floor, and not in the
gallery. This ball promises to be amusing, and you are running away
before it has fairly begun." Seeing I was too embarrassed to reply,
he continued with perfect savoir-faire a conversation made up of
nothings, leading me down the long corridor away from curious eyes
as he did so, until I was able to say, with decency:

"Monsieur, a thousand thanks for your timely attention, but I must
return. I have been over-long already."

At this moment M. de Sarennes approached from the op