w, any thing."

But his resolution had been taken. He went off; and a few moments
later Mme. Favoral and M. Chapelain entered a cab which had been
sent for, and drove to M. de Thaller's.

Left alone, Mlle. Gilberte had but one thought,--to notify M. de
Tregars, and obtain word from him. Any thing seemed preferable to
the horrible anxiety which oppressed her. She had just commenced
a letter, which she intended to have taken to the Count de Villegre,
when a violent ring of the bell made her start; and almost
immediately the servant came in, saying,

"It is a gentleman who wishes to see you, a friend of monsieur's,
--M. Costeclar, you know."

Mlle. Gilberte started to her feet, trembling with excitement.

"That's too much impudence!" she exclaimed. She was hesitating
whether to refuse him the door, or to see him, and dismiss him
shamefully herself, when she had a sudden inspiration. "What does
he want?" she thought. "Why not see him, and try and find out what
he knows? For he certainly must know the truth."

But it was no longer time to deliberate. Above the servant's
shoulder M. Costeclar's pale and impudent face showed itself.

The girl having stepped to one side, he appeared, hat in hand.
Although it was not yet nine o'clock, his morning toilet was
irreproachably correct. He had already passed through the
hair-dresser's hands; and his scanty hair was brought forward over
his low fore-head with the usual elaborate care.

He wore a pair of those ridiculous trousers which grow wide from
the knee down, and which were invented by Prussian tailors to hide
their customers' ugly feet. Under his light-colored overcoat could
be seen a velvet-faced jacket, with a rose in its buttonhole.

Meantime, he remained motionless on the threshold of the door,
trying to smile, and muttering one of those sentences which are
never intended to be finished.

"I beg you to believe, mademoiselle--your mother's absence--my most
respectful admiration--"

In fact, he was taken aback by the disorder of the girl's toilet,
--disorder which she had had no time to repair since the clamors
of the creditors had started her from her bed.

She wore a long brown cashmere wrapper, fitting quite close over
the hips setting off the vigorous elegance of her figure, the
maidenly perfections of her waist, and the exquisite contour of
her neck. Gathered up in haste, her thick blonde hair escaped
from beneath the pins, and spread over her sh