ase; you may kiss them, too, if you like," she shrugged
her shoulders, and was not pretty for the instant. "I pay as I
promise; it is a mere barter of commodities. You may take or leave it
as you choose."

The man's attitude of dejection touched even me, but the woman gave no
sign of feeling or compassion, only intense impatience.

"Well, Monsieur, am I to sit waiting an hour? Are you come to be a
sordid huckster to wrangle over your price?"

De Valence bent over her again, touched the lips lightly, and strode
away, gathering up his papers from the table as he went. Two only were
left, and those Madame held listlessly in her hand.

We felt thoroughly conscious of our guilt, Jerome and I, when we put
aside the screen and re-entered the room. There was a certain air of
resentment in his manner, as if he would call her to account, and I
heartily wished myself otherwhere. Perhaps it was all for the best; my
presence prevented, for the time, explanations, and I fancied the woman
was grateful for the respite. Her lassitude, and effort to overcome
it, smote me to the quick, and right willingly I would have aided her
had I but the power. To Jerome she spoke:

"You heard--all?"

He nodded.

"And saw?" Less resolutely this question came. The words conveyed the
wish, unexpressed, that he had not heard. To me she gave no thought.
Again Jerome nodded, and looked away.

"It is the penalty and the price of power. Oh, Jerome, how fervently I
have prayed that this all had not been," she went on oblivious of my
presence.

Jerome's resentment faded away at her mute appeal for sympathy, and I
am very sure he would not have me chronicle all that then occurred.
Suffice it, that I employed myself by the window, some minutes perhaps,
until a hasty rap on the door, and the maid bore a message which she
delivered to her mistress in secret.

"Bid him come in at once if it please him."

"He is already here, madame," the girl replied.

We had barely time to gain our former hiding place before a man richly
dressed, and limping, entered; the same I had seen in the gardens of
Versailles. I was now intensely interested in this little drama,
which, as it were, was being played for my own benefit, and gave closer
study to the Duke of Maine who hurried in.

The weak, irresolute face bore no trace of the dignity and power which
made his royal father at times truly great; it showed, too, but little
inheritance from the proud be