ppy, so much needless
sorrow. "O, how he has suffered!" she sobbed. "Have you heard anything
from him?"

"No; but he can come and tell you himself all that you wish to know,"
answered her grandfather, with a smile.

"But he may not wish to come."

"Well, then, we will go to him. It is Sunday; let us find him and bring
him home with us."

An hour or two later, M. Rivals and his granddaughter were on their
way to Paris. Just after they left, a man stopped before the house. He
looked at the little door. "This is the place," he said, and he
rang. The servant opened the door, but seeing before her one of those
dangerous ped-lers that wander through the country, she attempted to
close it again.

"What do you want?"

"The gentleman of the house."

"He is not at home."

"And the young lady?"

"She is not at home, either."

"When will they be back?"

"I have no idea!" And she closed the door.

"Good heavens!" said Belisaire, in a choked voice; "and must he be
permitted to die without any help?"

CHAPTER XXIII.~~A MELANCHOLY SPECTACLE.

That evening there was a great literary entertainment at the editors of
the Review; a fete had been arranged to celebrate Charlotte's return, at
which it was proposed that D'Argenton should read his new poem.

But was there not something rather ridiculous in deploring the absence
of a person who was then present? And how could he describe the
sufferings of a deserted lover, he who was supposed at the moment to be
at the summit of bliss, by reason of the return of the beloved object?
Never had the apartments been so luxuriously arranged; flowers were
there in profusion. The toilet of Charlotte was in exquisite taste,
white with clusters of violets, and all the surroundings breathed an
atmosphere of riches. Yet nothing could have been more deceptive.
The Review was in a dying condition; the numbers appearing at longer
intervals, and growing small by degrees and beautifully less. D'Argenton
had swallowed up in it the half of his fortune, and now wished to sell
it. It was this unfortunate situation, added to an attack skilfully
managed, that had induced the foolish Charlotte to return to him. He had
only to assume before her the air of a great man crushed by unmerited
misfortune, for her to reply that she would serve him always.

D'Argenton was foolish and conceited, but he understood the nature of
this woman in a most wonderful degree. She thought him handsomer and
more f