utes an unbroken silence prevailed.

My father at last leaned over towards Madame, and I. heard the word
"coffee." She arose and took his arm, and we all followed them to the
drawing-room.

"I 'm right glad it's over," said Hotham, as he poured his brandy over
his coffee. "I've sat out a court-martial that wasn't slower than that
dinner."

"But what's the meaning of it all?" asked another. "Why and how came all
these apologies?"

"You 'd better ask Cleremont, or rather his wife," muttered Hotham, and
moved away.

"You ought to get into the open air; that's the best thing for you,"
I heard Cleremont say to his wife; but there was such a thorough
indifference in the tone, it sounded less like a kindness than a
sarcasm. She, however, drew a shawl around her, and moved down the
steps into the garden. My father soon after retired to his own room, and
Cleremont laughingly said, "There are no women here, and we may have
a cigar;" and he threw his case across the table. The whole party were
soon immersed in smoke.

I saw that my presence imposed some restraint on the conversation, and
soon sought my room with a much sadder spirit and a heavier heart than I
had left it two hours before.

CHAPTER XII. THE BALL

Musing and thinking and fretting together, I had fallen asleep on my
sofa, and was awakened by Mr. Nixon lighting my candles, and asking me,
in a very mild voice, if I felt unwell.

"No, nothing of the kind."

"Won't you go down, sir, then? It's past eleven now, and there 's a good
many people below."

"Who have come?" asked I, eagerly.

"Well, sir," said he, with a certain degree of hesitation, "they 're
not much to talk about There's eight or nine young gentlemen of the
embassies--attaches like--and there's fifteen or twenty officers of
the Guides, and there's some more that look like travellers out of the
hotels; they ain't in evening-dress."

"Are there no ladies?"

"Yes; I suppose we must call them ladies, sir. There's Madame Rigault
and her two daughters."

"The pastrycook?"

"Yes, sir; and there are the Demoiselles Janson, of the cigar-shop,
and stunningly dressed they are too! Amber satin with black lace, and
Spanish veils on their heads. And there's that little Swedish girl--I
believe she's a Swede--that sells the iced drinks."

"But what do you mean? These people have not been invited. How have they
come here?"

"Well, sir, I must n't tell you a lie; but I hope you 'll not betray