. And closing her eyes as the
brougham rolled along, she poisoned her mind by ruminating all these
things, scarce able to refrain from venting her fury by throwing herself
upon that young woman Charlotte, well-loved and fruitful spouse, who sat
beside her.

Then the thought of Denis occurred to her. Why was he being taken to the
works? Did he also mean to rob her? Yet she knew that he had refused to
join his brother, as in his opinion there was not room for two at the
establishment of the Boulevard de Grenelle. Indeed, Denis's ambition
was to direct some huge works by himself; he possessed an extensive
knowledge of mechanics, and this it was that rendered him a valuable
adviser whenever a new model of some important agricultural machine had
to be prepared at the Beauchene factory. Constance promptly dismissed
him from her thoughts; in her estimation there was no reason to
fear him; he was a mere passer-by, who on the morrow, perhaps, would
establish himself at the other end of France. Then once more the thought
of Blaise came back to her, imperative, all-absorbing; and it suddenly
occurred to her that if she made haste home she would be able to see
Morange alone in his office and ascertain many things from him before
the others arrived. It was evident that the accountant must know
something of the partnership scheme, even if it were as yet only in a
preliminary stage. Thereupon she became impassioned, eager to arrive,
certain as she felt of obtaining confidential information from Morange,
whom she deemed to be devoted to her.

As the carriage rolled over the Jena bridge she opened her eyes and
looked out. "_Mon Dieu_!" said she, "what a time this brougham takes! If
the rain would only fall it would, perhaps, relieve my head a little."

She was thinking, however, that a sharp shower would give her more time,
as it would compel the three men, Beauchene, Denis, and Blaise, to seek
shelter in some doorway. And when the carriage reached the works she
hastily stopped the coachman, without even conducting her companion to
the little pavilion.

"You will excuse me, won't you, my dear?" said she; "you only have to
turn the street corner."

When they had both alighted, Charlotte, smiling and affectionate, took
hold of Constance's hand and retained it for a few moments in her own.

"Of course," she replied, "and many thanks. You are too kind. When
you see my husband, pray tell him that you left me safe, for he grows
anxious