e by your petty acts; in _this_ plot you have failed,
and, for the future, we shall take better care of ourselves and of the
child. You have given us warning!"

She did not wait few an answer to these words, which she poured forth
in ever-increasing excitement. Before the women could collect their
thoughts and interfere she had seized little Frances's hat and cloak,
had put them on the child, and had borne her away in her arms.

The moment she had gone, Stephanopulos entered the room with a nervous
laugh.

"_Quelle femme!_" he said. "_Elle nous a joliment mis dedans._"

"Angelos," commanded the countess, "go after her! She is perfectly
capable of seating herself in the carriage that stands before the door
and riding home in it. We need the carriage. There is no time to lose."

"But, my dear countess, I don't understand. What is the use now?--and
you, madame--"

He approached Lucie, who had sunk down on the lounge in speechless
stupor.

"Don't be a child, Angelos!" said the countess, excitedly. "What is
there about it you don't understand? The game is lost! To be sure, if
it had only been played somewhat better--"

"What would you have?" retorted the young woman, in an irritated tone.
"Didn't we do everything you advised us? If it hadn't been for this
horrible incident, everything would have turned out well. I should have
carried off the child, and by doing so have proved to the world that I
knew myself to be innocent, that I would not quietly submit to
everything they chose to put upon me, and that I had the courage to
defend myself against the incredible insults--"

"Calm yourself, my good friend!" said Nelida, decisively. "Why should
we go on with a comedy that deludes no one? Enough, _le coup a manque!_
We must take care that the recoil does not strike you. The journey
which you intended to take with the child you must take alone. Or,
don't you think that your husband will do all in his power to make you
suffer for the mere attempt, if he hears--"

"He will rage like a tiger!" cried Stephanopulos. "I once saw a little
specimen of his rage when a hostler whipped a cart-horse until the
animal fell to the ground. He sprang upon the man and would have torn
him in pieces if we had not interfered. The countess is right--you must
fly; of course I will accompany you, until you are in safety."

The old singer, who had kept herself in the background during the whole
scene, now stepped forward and zealously joined