be
banished."

And Louise sighed: Raoul cast down his eyes, with an expression of
constraint. Montalais, on her part, laughed aloud.

"Well, I have no parents!" said she.

"You are acquainted, without doubt, with the state of health of M. le
Comte de la Fere?" said Louise, after breathing that sigh which had
revealed so many griefs in its eloquent utterance.

"No, mademoiselle," replied Raoul, "I have not yet paid my respects to
my father; I was going to his house when Mademoiselle de Montalais so
kindly stopped me. I hope the comte is well. You have heard nothing to
the contrary, have you?"

"No, M. Raoul--nothing, thank God!"

Here, for several instants, ensued a silence, during which two spirits,
which followed the same idea, communicated perfectly, without even the
assistance of a single glance.

"Oh, heavens!" exclaimed Montalais in a fright; "there is somebody
coming up."

"Who can it be?" said Louise, rising in great agitation.

"Mesdemoiselles, I inconvenience you very much. I have, without doubt,
been very indiscreet," stammered Raoul, very ill at ease.

"It is a heavy step," said Louise.

"Ah! if it is only M. Malicorne," added Montalais, "do not disturb
yourselves."

Louise and Raoul looked at each other to inquire who M. Malicorne could
be.

"There is no occasion to mind him," continued Montalais; "he is not
jealous."

"But, mademoiselle--" said Raoul.

"Yes, I understand. Well, he is as discreet as I am."

"Good heavens!" cried Louise, who had applied her ear to the door, which
had been left ajar, "it is my mother's step!"

"Madame de Saint-Remy! Where shall I hide myself?" exclaimed Raoul,
catching at the dress of Montalais, who looked quite bewildered.

"Yes," said she; "yes, I know the clicking of those pattens! It is our
excellent mother. M. le Vicomte, what a pity it is the window looks upon
a stone pavement, and that fifty paces below it."

Raoul glanced at the balcony in despair. Louise seized his arm and held
it tight.

"Oh, how silly I am!" said Montalais, "have I not the robe-of-ceremony
closet? It looks as if it were made on purpose."

It was quite time to act; Madame de Saint-Remy was coming up at a
quicker pace than usual. She gained the landing at the moment when
Montalais, as in all scenes of surprises, shut the closet by leaning
with her back against the door.

"Ah!" cried Madame de Saint-Remy, "you are here, are you, Louise?"

"Yes, madame," replied she, more