e Octave a good scolding the next morning; then
she renounced this little pleasure, when she remembered that it would
force her to admit the discovery of the pin, and of course to return it
to him, for she had resolved to keep it. She had always had a particular
fancy for this pin, but she would never have dared to ask him for it,
and besides, it was the fact that Octave usually wore it that made it
of infinite value to her. The desire to appropriate it was irresistible,
since chance had thrown it into her hands. She tied a black satin
ribbon about her white neck, and pinned it with the precious ruby. After
kissing it as devotedly as if it were a relic, she ran to her mirror to
judge of the effect of the theft.

"How pretty, and how I love it!" said she; "but how can I wear it so
that he will not see it?"

Before she could solve this problem, she heard a slight noise, which
petrified her as she stood before her glass.

"It is he!" she thought; after standing for a moment half stunned, she
dragged herself as far as the stairs, and leaning over, listened with
fear and trembling. At first she could hear nothing but the beating of
her heart; then she heard the other noise again, and more distinctly.
Somebody was turning the handle of the door, trying to open it. The
unexpected obstacle of the bolt doubtless exasperated the would-be
visitor, for the door was shaken and pushed with a violence which
threatened to break the lock or push down the door.

Madame de Bergenheim's first thought was to run into her chamber and
lock the door behind her;--the second showed her the danger that might
result if the slightest noise should reach other ears. Not a moment was
to be lost in hesitation. The young woman quickly descended the stairs
and drew the bolt. The door opened softly and closed with the same
precaution. The lamp from the parlor threw a feeble light upon the upper
steps of the staircase, but the lower ones were in complete darkness. It
was with her heart rather than her eyes that she recognized Octave; he
could distinguish Madame de Bergenheim only in an indistinct way by
her white dress, which was faintly outlined in the darkness; she stood
before him silent and trembling with emotion, for she had not yet
thought of a speech that would send him away.

He also felt the embarrassment usual in any one guilty of so foolhardy
an action. He had expected to surprise Clemence, and he found her upon
her guard; the thought of th