raordinarily upset. But when Lord Fordyce had gone he rapidly
reviewed matters and made up his mind. At all events, for the present,
he would be guided by what Sabine's attitude should be herself. He would
certainly see her alone on the following day and then she would most
likely broach the subject and they could agree what to do--for that
Henry must know some day was an incontestable fact. He, Michael, would
make some excuse and leave Heronac by the next evening, it was
impossible to go on playing such a part, and not fair to any one, least
of all to his friend.

"I will give her to-night to declare her hand," he thought, as his
valet, no longer the dignified Johnson, handed him his coat, "and then
if she will not put the cards down--I must."

But when he opened his door and saw her exquisite slender figure
tripping forward from the dark passage, a fierce pain gripped his heart,
and he said between his teeth:

"My God! if it had not been too late!"

The Dame d'Heronac was in wild spirits at dinner--and her cheeks burned
like glowing roses. Monsieur le Cure watched her with his wise, black
eye.

"The child is not herself," he thought. "It is possible that this
Englishman may mean a great deal to her--but he is of the gentle type,
not of the sort one would believe to make strong passions--no--now if it
had been the other one--the friend--that one could have seen some light
through--a young man well able to fill the heart of any woman--a fine
young man, a splendid young man--but yes."

Madame Imogen made no reflections, she was too delighted with their gay
repast, and helped with her jolly wit to keep the ball rolling.

Henry felt slightly intoxicated with happiness--while in Michael,
passions of various sorts were rising, against his will.

A devil was in Sabine--never had she been so alluring, so feminine, so
completely removed from her usual grave, indifferent self.

She did not look at Michael once or vouchsafe him any conversation
beyond what cordial politeness compelled. It was to Pere Anselme that
she almost made love, with shy sallies at Henry, and merry replies to
Madame Imogen. But her whole atmosphere was radiating with provoking
fascination--and as they all rose from table she took Lord Fordyce's
arm.

"In England, I hear you men remain in the dining room to drink all sorts
of ports--but here in my France we expect you to be sociable and come
with us at once--you may smoke where you choose."

He