ng to meet Mora in the Bois on Sunday.
He, like his master, loved to show himself to the Parisians, to keep his
popularity alive in all public places; and then the duchess never
accompanied him on that day, and he could draw rein without restraint at
the little chalet of Saint-James, known to all Paris, whose pink turrets
peering out among the trees school-boys pointed out to one another with
whispered comments. But only a madwoman, a shameless creature like that
Felicia, would advertise herself thus, destroy her reputation forever.
The sound of hoofs and of rustling bushes dying away in the distance,
bent weeds standing erect, branches thrust aside resuming their
places--that was all that remained of the apparition.

"Did you see?" Paul was the first to ask.

She had seen and she had understood, despite her virtuous innocence, for
a blush overspread her features, caused by the shame we feel for the
sins of those we love.

"Poor Felicia!" she whispered, pitying not only the poor abandoned
creature who had passed before them, but him as well whom that fall from
grace was certain to strike full in the heart. The truth is that Paul de
Gery was in no wise surprised by that meeting, which confirmed some
previous suspicions and the instinctive repulsion he had felt for the
seductive creature at their dinner-party some days before. But it seemed
sweet to him to be pitied by Aline, to feel her sympathy in the
increased tenderness of her voice, in the arm that leaned more heavily
upon his. Like children who play at being ill for the joy of being
petted by their mothers, he allowed the comforter to do her utmost to
soothe his disappointment, to talk to him of his brothers, of the Nabob,
and of the impending journey to Tunis, a beautiful country, so it was
said. "You must write to us often, and write long letters about the
interesting things you see and about the place you live in. For we can
see those who are far away from us better when we can form an idea of
their surroundings."--Chatting thus, they reached the end of the shady
path, at a vast clearing where the tumult of the Bois was in full blast,
carriages and equestrians alternating, and the crowd tramping in a
fleecy dust which gave it, at that distance, the appearance of a
disorderly flock of sheep. Paul slackened his pace, emboldened by that
last moment of solitude.

"Do you know what I am thinking?" he said, taking Aline's hand; "that
any one would enjoy being unhap