leaving her side when he saw that
she became interested in looking at them.

He went to the window--listened--then drew aside the curtain, and looked
up and down the street. No living soul was in sight. "I must have been
mistaken," he thought, returning hastily to his sister; "but I certainly
fancied I was followed in my walk to-day by a spy."

"I wonder," asked Rose, still busy over her book, "I wonder, Louis,
whether my husband would let me go with you to see 'Le Cid' the next
time it is acted."

"No!" cried a voice at the door; "not if you went on your knees to ask
him."

Rose turned round with a scream. There stood her husband on the
threshold, scowling at her, with his hat on, and his hands thrust
doggedly into his pockets. Trudaine's servant announced him, with an
insolent smile, during the pause that followed the discovery. "Citizen
Superintendent Danville, to visit the citoyenne, his wife," said the
fellow, making a mock bow to his master.

Rose looked at her brother, then advanced a few paces toward the door.
"This is a surprise," she said, faintly; "has anything happened?
We--we didn't expect you." Her voice failed her as she saw her husband
advancing, pale to his very lips with suppressed anger.

"How dare you come here, after what I told you?" he asked, in quick, low
tones.

She shrank at his voice almost as if he had struck her. The blood flew
into her brother's face as he noticed the action; but he controlled
himself, and, taking her hand, led her in silence to a chair.

"I forbid you to sit down in his house," said Danville, advancing still;
"I order you to come back with me! Do you hear? I order you."

He was approaching nearer to her, when he caught Trudaine's eye fixed on
him, and stopped. Rose started up, and placed herself between them.

"Oh, Charles, Charles!" she said to her husband, "be friends with Louis
to-night, and be kind again to me. I have a claim to ask that much of
you, though you may not think it!"

He turned away from her, and laughed contemptuously. She tried to speak
again, but Trudaine touched her on the arm, and gave her a warning look.

"Signals!" exclaimed Danville; "secret signals between you!"

His eye, as he glanced suspiciously at his wife, fell on Trudaine's
gift-book, which she still held unconsciously.

"What book is that?" he asked.

"Only a play of Corneille's," answered Rose; "Louis has just made me a
present of it."

At this avowal Danville's suppre