t care for you. Under those
circumstances I think you are punished enough; and I will not insist on
knowing how you came to deceive yourself so far. But I advise you not to
spend any more time staring at that line of poplars," said Madame de
Sainfoy. "Learn not to take in earnest what other people mean in play;
your country cousin admires you, no doubt, but he knows more of the
world than you do, most idiotic and ill-behaved girl!"

As she said the last words she rose and crossed the room to the door,
throwing them scornfully over her shoulder. Then she passed out, and
Helene, planted there, heard the key grind in the lock.

She was a prisoner in her room; but this did not greatly trouble her.
She went back to the window, leaned her arms on the sill, gazed once
more at La Mariniere, its trees motionless in the afternoon sunlight,
thought of the old room as she had first seen it that moonlit evening
with its sweet air of peace and home, thought of the noble, delicate
face of Angelot's mother, thought of Angelot himself as the candle-light
fell upon him, of the first wonderful look, the electric current which
changed the world for herself and him. And then all that had happened
since, all that her mother did not and never must know. Was it really
possible, could it be believed that he meant nothing, that he did not
love her after all? No, it could not be believed. And yet how to be
sure, without seeing him again?

Ah, well, for some people life must be all sadness, and Helene had long
believed herself one of these. Angelot's love seemed to have proved her
wrong, but now the leaf in her book was turned back again, and she found
herself at the old place. Not quite that either, for the old deadness
had been waked into an agony of pain. Angelot false! Hell must certainly
be worse to bear after a taste of Paradise.

She laid her fair head down on her arms at the open window, high in the
bare wall. An hour passed by, and still she sat there in a kind of
hopeless lethargy. She did not hear a gentle tapping at the door, nor
the trying of the latch by some one who could not get in. But a minute
later she started and exclaimed when a dark head was suddenly nestled
against hers, her cheek kissed by rosy lips, her name whispered
lovingly.

"Oh, little Riette!" she cried. "Where did you come from, child? Was the
key in the door?"

"No, there was no key," Riette whispered. "You are locked in, ma belle;
but never mind. I know my