at all," continued the banker. "Tomorrow I leave my offices.
My customers may say what they like; I will leave my business, and we
are off."

Jeanne showed signs of pleasure. A flash of joy lit up her face. To go
away, that was rest for her!

"And where shall we go?"

"That is the surprise! You know that the Prince and his wife intend
travelling!"

"Yes; but they refused to say where they were going;" interrupted
Jeanne, with a troubled expression.

"Not to me. They are going to Switzerland. Well, we shall join them
there."

Jeanne arose like a startled deer when it hears the sound of a gun.

"Join them there!" she exclaimed.

"Yes; to continue the journey together. A party of four; two
newly-married couples. It will be charming. I spoke to Serge on the
subject. He objected at first, but the Princess came to my assistance.
And when he saw that his wife and I were agreed, he commenced to laugh,
and said: 'You wish it? I consent. Don't say anything more!' It is
all very well to talk of love's solitude; in about a fortnight, passed
tete-a-tete, Serge will be glad to have us. We will go to Italy to see
the lakes; and there, in a boat, all four, of us will have such pleasant
times."

Cayrol might have gone on talking for an hour, but Jeanne was not
listening. She was thinking. Thus all the efforts which she had
decided to make to escape from him whom she loved would be useless. An
invincible fatality ever brought her toward him whom she was seeking
to avoid. And it was her husband who was aiding this inevitable
and execrable meeting. A bitter smile played on her lips. There was
something mournfully comic in this stubbornness of Cayrol's, in throwing
her in the way of Serge.

Cayrol, embarrassed by Jeanne's silence, waited a moment.

"What is the matter?" he asked. "You are just like the Prince when I
spoke to him on the subject."

Jeanne turned away abruptly. Cayrol's comparison was too direct. His
blunders were becoming wearisome.

The banker, quite discomfited on seeing the effect of his words,
continued:

"You object to this journey? If so, I am willing to give it up."

The young wife was touched by this humble servility.

"Well, yes," she said, softly, "I should be grateful to you."

"I had hoped to please you," said Cayrol. "It is for me to beg pardon
for having succeeded so badly. Let us remain in Paris. It does not
matter to me what place we are in! Being near to you is all I desire."

He appr