one
humiliated. He, the deceiver, must own himself deceived. When he
believed himself loved, he was laughed at. His own words were flung in
his teeth in an insolent mockery. "A sympathy of intellect;" yes, he
had used these words so often. He had obeyed the beckoning of a Circe,
and now she held out to him his swine's reward of husks.

Edward Percy had been dissatisfied with others, with circumstances,
and surroundings, many a time and oft; but to-day, for the very first
time, he felt dissatisfied with himself.

And Claire had revenged her wrongs twofold.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE CURTAIN RISES ON THE MIMIC STAGE.

Always, in life, little events pave the way for great catastrophes.
The mine burns slowly until the explosive point is reached, and then--

Fate was taking a leisurely gait, seemingly, and moving affairs at
Oakley with a deliberation that was almost hesitating. Nevertheless,
things were moving, and in the wake of little events, great ones
could already be discerned by the plotters and counter-plotters, who
waited and watched.

Celine Leroque was in better spirits than usual, in these days.
Indeed, considering how exceedingly probable it seemed that she would
be turned adrift at any hour by her present mistress, Celine was very
cheerful.

And Miss Arthur had cause to complain. Beyond a doubt her French maid
was becoming careless, very careless. Sometimes Miss Arthur was
inclined to think that her scant locks of well-dyed hair were pulled
quite unnecessarily, while her head was under Celine's hands. But this
she endured like a Spartan, only exclaiming when the torture became
unbearable. And when she finally ventured a protest, disastrous was
the outcome.

With many an apology, Celine fingered the curls and braids, inquiring
with every touch of the hand or adjustment of a hair-pin: "Does that
hurt, mademoiselle?"

Being assured, when the hair-dressing was done, that she had
accomplished the task without inflicting so much as a single twinge of
pain, she held open the door for her mistress, cooing her satisfaction
and beaming with delight.

But alas for the poor spinster! Before she had been half an hour in
the society of her beloved _fiance_, her unfortunate habit of tossing
and wriggling her head brought Celine's gingerly architecture to
grief. A sudden twist tumbled down full half of the glossy "crown of
glory" from Miss Arthur's head to Mr. Percy's feet, and--we draw a
veil over the confus