with those gold
threads. Don't you think it is very lovely?"

"I do, indeed," said Vaughan, with unconscious warmth.

Madame laughed gaily, but there was a disagreeable glitter in her eye.
"What, fickle already? Ah well, I give you full leave."

"And example, madame," said Ernest, as he bowed and left her side, glad
to have struck the first blow of his freedom from this handsome tyrant,
who was as capricious and exacting as she was clever and captivating.
But fetters made of fairer roses were over Ernest now, and he never
bethought himself of the probable vengeance of that bitterest foe, a
woman who is piqued.

"Tout beau!" thought Pauline, as she saw him waltzing with Nina. "Mais
je vous donnerai encore l'echec et mat, mon brave joueur."

"Did you give Madame de Melusine the bouquet she carries this evening?"
asked Nina, as he whirled her round.

"No," said Ernest, astonished. "Why do you ask?"

"Because she said you did," answered Nina, never accustomed to conceal
anything; "and, besides, it is exactly like mine."

"Infernal woman!" muttered Ernest. "How could you for a moment believe
that I would have so insulted you?"

"I didn't believe it," said Nina, lifting her frank eyes to his. "But
how very late you are; have you been at the ballet?"

His face grew stern. "Did she tell you that?"

"Yes. But why did you go there, instead of coming to dance with me? Do
you like those danseuses better than you do me? What was Celine's or
anybody's debut, to you?"

Ernest smiled at the native indignation of the question. "Never think
that I do not wish to be with you; but--I wanted oblivion, and one
cannot shake off old habits. Did you miss me among all those other men
that you have always round you?"

"How unkind that is!" whispered Nina, indignantly. "You know I always
do."

He held her closer to him in the waltz, and she felt his heart beat
quicker, but she got no other answer.

That night Nina stood before her toilette-table, putting her flowers in
water, and some hot tears fell on the azalias.

"I will have faith in him," she cried, passionately; "though all the
world be witness against him, I will believe in him. Whatever his life
may have been, his heart is warm and true; they shall never make me
doubt it."

Her last thoughts were of him, and when she slept his face was in her
dreams, while Ernest, with some of the wildest men of his set, smoked
hard and drank deep in his chambers to drive away, if he