s I
admit, but one on whom his affection confers an appearance of value.
What, I ask you, then, is to tell me some means of disengaging myself
honorably either from the one or from the other; or rather, I ask you,
from which side you think I can free myself most honorably."

"My dear Louise," replied Montalais, after a pause, "I am not one of
those seven wise men of Greece, and I have no perfectly invariable rules
of conduct to govern me; but, on the other hand, I have a little
experience, and I can assure you that no woman ever asks for advice of
the nature which you have just asked me, without being in a terrible
state of embarrassment. Besides, you have made a solemn promise, which
every principle of honor would require you to fulfill;--if, therefore,
you are embarrassed, in consequence of having undertaken such an
engagement, it is not a stranger's advice (every one is a stranger to a
heart full of love), it is not my advice, I repeat, which will extricate
you from your embarrassment. I shall not give it you, therefore; and for
a greater reason still--because, were I in your place, I should feel
much more embarrassed after the advice than before it. All I can do is,
to repeat what I have already told you: shall I assist you?"

"Yes, yes."

"Very well; that is all. Tell me in what way you wish me to help you;
tell me for and against whom--in this way we shall not make any
blunders."

"But first of all," said La Valliere, pressing her companion's hand,
"for whom or against whom do you decide?"

"For you, if you are really and truly my friend."

"Are you not Madame's confidante?"

"A greater reason for being of service to you; if I were not to know
what is going on in that direction, I should not be able to be of any
service at all, and consequently you would not obtain any advantage from
my acquaintance. Friendships live and thrive upon a system of reciprocal
benefit."

"The result is, then, that you will remain at the same time Madame's
friend also?"

"Evidently. Do you complain of that?"

"No," said La Valliere, thoughtfully, for that cynical frankness
appeared to her an offense addressed both to the woman as well as to the
friend.

"All well and good, then," said Montalais, "for, in that case, you would
be very foolish."

"You will serve me, then?"

"Devotedly so, if you will serve me in return."

"One would almost say that you do not know my heart," said La Valliere,
looking at Montalais with h