any, and if he
overstepped ordinary courtesy in the least, she must show him plainly
that she loved Lucien. Surely she had shown him this already. But to-day
the thought was not to be so lightly dismissed, and a warm glow at her
heart told her how pleasant the idea was. Lucien appeared to have faded
out of her life. She could not believe him false, but his image had
grown altogether dim, while this other man was real, vital. Even now she
could feel the pressure of his hand as it had held hers as they ran
together from the Lion d'Or that night. She could see the encouragement
in his eyes when they had quarreled loudly as they entered the barrier
next morning. She remembered the look in his face when she had last seen
him in Monsieur de Lafayette's apartment, when he had said he was always
at her service. He would surely remember that last meeting, too, should
he ever know that she had sent him a letter which had never reached him.

"Yes, he loves me, it must be so," she said, and she rose and looked
from her window into the empty garden which was growing dark now at the
close of the short day. "I am glad. It gives me courage. I will be
worthy of the love of such a man, though he will never know that he
influenced me, will never know that I was glad he loved me. This Doctor
Legrand, this miserable bargainer in lives, shall not see a trace of
fear or regret in me. Wednesday passes. Three more days. I will make a
brave show in them, and pass out to whatever fate awaits me with steady
step and head erect, worthy of my father's name, worthy of--worthy of
him."

There was a smile on her lips as she entered the salon that night, no
brilliant apartment, it is true, and somewhat dimly lighted for a scene
of festivity. Some one said they were to dance that night, and card
tables were set ready for players. There were many brave hearts there,
shadowed hearts--misery concealed by a smile.

"Yes, I will dance presently," said Jeanne to a man who greeted her.
"Cards! Yes, I will play. How, else should we fill such long evenings?"

Others caught her spirit. An animation came into the conversation, there
was real laughter.

"Mademoiselle," said a voice behind her, the voice of the Abbe, sonorous
and important. "Mademoiselle, permit me the honor to present to you the
Marquis de Castellux."

Jeanne turned, the smile still upon her lips. The Marquis bowed so low
his face was hidden for a moment, but he took her hand and, as he raised