ie kept her room all day.

Count de Volaski came to dinner at eight o'clock and was received by the
duke alone.

He smiled grimly when his host apologized for the absence of the duchess,
by explaining the delicate condition of her health since the death of her
parents, and the injury she had received from the fatigue and excitement
of the dinner-party on the preceding evening.

The duke and the count dined _tete-a-tete_, and sat long over their
wine, although they drank but little. After dinner they played chess
together all the evening, and then parted, apparently the best of friends
on both sides, really good friends on the duke's.

The next morning a letter was handed Valerie, while she sat at breakfast
with the duke.

She recognized the handwriting of Count de Volaski, and put it in her
pocket to read when she was alone.

The duke was not suspicious or inquisitive. He asked no questions.

As soon as the duchess found herself alone in her chamber, she locked the
door to keep out intruders, and sat down and opened the letter.

Its contents were sufficiently startling. They were as follows:

"RUSSIAN LEGATION, RUE ST. HONORE.

"VALERIE: You avoid me in vain! You cannot shake me off. I
accepted the duke's invitation to dinner last evening for the sake of
seeing you again, and for the chance of having a final explanation with
you; but you kept away from the dinner. Such expedients will not avail
you.

"I write now to assure you that I must and will see you, to make an
arrangement with you. I write openly, at the risk of having this letter
fall into the hands of the duke; for I do not care if it does so fall.
I would just as willingly say to him what I now say to you. I am quite
willing to provoke a crisis. The present state of things maddens me. I
wonder it does not _kill_ you! When you married the Duke of Hereward
within six months after my supposed death by the hands of your father,
you acted cruelly, but not criminally; now that you know I am living, you
must also know that every hour you continue to live under the roof of the
Duke of Hereward you are a criminal. I do not require you to come to
_me_. I do not wish to live with you again, although I love you;
but I _do_ require you to leave the Duke of Hereward and go away by
yourself. I know you now, Valerie. You are as weak as water. You cannot
go to the noble gentleman who has been so deeply deceived by you and your
parents and tell him the secret that