minutes passed thus. The prisoners were
passing and repassing. Those who had been surprised by the arrival of
Philip a short time before, were now wondering who this young girl, for
whom Dolores evinced all a sister's tenderness, could be.

We have already said that each of the prisons which had been crowded
with victims by the Reign of Terror was a faithful reproduction of the
aristocratic society of Paris, now decimated by death and by exile, but
which was famous for its intrigues, its wit, its indiscretions, its
luxury and its gallantries. Behind the prison bars the ladies still
remained grandes dames; the men, courtiers: and neither sex had lost any
of its interest in small events as well as great. On the contrary, the
monotony of prison life and the desire to kill time intensified this
interest so natural to the French mind. An incident of trifling
importance furnished them with a topic of conversation for hours. The
new dress in which the duchess had appeared, the pleasure with which the
marquise seemed to receive the attentions of the chevalier, interested
this little world, which had not been cured of its frivolity by its
misfortunes, as much as the heroism which the last person condemned had
displayed on ascending the scaffold.

This serves to explain how and why a general curiosity was awakened by
the appearance of Antoinette de Mirandol. A few moments before, they had
noticed the Marquis de Chamondrin engaged in animated conversation with
Dolores. The malicious scented an intrigue; the ladies undertook the
defence of Dolores; the old people remembered that she had been educated
with Philip, and thought it quite natural that they should have much to
say to each other after a long separation; but when Dolores, after
absenting herself a few moments, returned with a charming young girl
upon her arm, a stranger, whom she led straight to Philip, every one
was eager to know the name of the new-comer. They watched the group
with evident curiosity, as if trying to divine what was passing; they
commented on the emotion betrayed in Philip's face, and the
acquaintances of Dolores were anxiously waiting for an opportunity to
question her.

"I think we are creating quite a sensation," Dolores said, at last, in a
low tone and with a smile.

Philip turned, and seeing they were the subject of universal comment,
and desiring an opportunity to collect his scattered thoughts, he said:

"We will meet again presently."

Th