aight up to a little boudoir on
the second floor, and shut herself in. This room was at the back of the
house, and her maid, who was at that moment walking in the long garden
which stretched down to the water, where there was a landing place for
small boats, saw her draw in the window blind and darken the room, still
in her bonnet and cloak. She remained alone for a couple of hours. At
five o'clock, some time after the hour at which she was usually summoned
to dress her mistress for the evening, the maid knocked at Hortense's
door, and offered her services. Madame called out, from within, that she
had a _migraine_, and would not be dressed.

'Can I get anything for madame?' asked Josephine; 'a _tisane_, a warm
drink, something?'

'Nothing, nothing.'

'Will madame dine?'

'No.'

'Madame had better not go wholly without eating.'

'Bring me a bottle of wine--of brandy.'

Josephine obeyed. When she returned, Hortense was standing in the
doorway, and as one of the shutters had meanwhile been thrown open, the
woman could see that, although her mistress's hat had been tossed upon
the sofa, her cloak had not been removed, and that her face was very
pale. Josephine felt that she might not offer sympathy nor ask
questions.

'Will madame have nothing more?' she ventured to say, as she handed her
the tray.

Madame shook her head, and closed and locked the door.

Josephine stood a moment vexed, irresolute, listening. She heard no
sound. At last she deliberately stooped down and applied her eye to the
key-hole.

This is what she saw:

Her mistress had gone to the open window, and stood with her back to the
door, looking out at the sea. She held the bottle by the neck in one
hand, which hung listlessly by her side; the other was resting on a
glass half filled with water, standing, together with an open letter, on
a table beside her. She kept this position until Josephine began to
grow tired of waiting. But just as she was about to arise in despair of
gratifying her curiosity, madame raised the bottle and glass, and filled
the latter full. Josephine looked more eagerly. Hortense held it a
moment against the light, and then drained it down.

Josephine could not restrain an involuntary whistle. But her surprise
became amazement when she saw her mistress prepare to take a second
glass. Hortense put it down, however, before its contents were half
gone, as if struck by a sudden thought, and hurried across the room. She
st