ult? Must she
suffer again?

For the first time a terrible doubt came over her. What she had formerly
regarded as a most sublime effort of maternal love, was, perhaps, even a
greater crime than the first she had committed. She had given her honor
as the price of her son's happiness and prosperity. Had she a right to
do so? Did not the money she had lavished upon him contain every germ of
corruption, misfortune, and shame? How terrible Wilkie's grief and rage
would be if he chanced to hear the truth!

Alas! he would certainly pay no heed to the extenuating circumstances;
he would close his ears to all attempts at justification. He would be
pitiless. He would have naught but hatred and scorn to bestow upon
a mother who had fallen from the highest rank in society down to
everlasting infamy. She fancied she heard him saying in an indignant
voice, "It would have been better to have allowed me to die of
starvation than to have given me bread purchased at such a price! Why
have you dishonored me by your ill-gotten wealth? Fallen, you might have
raised yourself by honest toil. You ought to have made me a laborer, and
not a spoiled idler, incapable of earning an honest livelihood. As the
son of a poor, betrayed, and deserted woman, with whom I could have
shared my scanty earnings, I might have looked the world proudly in the
face. But where can the son of Lia d'Argeles hide his disgrace after
playing the gentleman for twenty years with Lia d'Argeles's money?" Yes,
Wilkie would certainly say this if he ever learned the truth; and he
would learn it--she felt sure of it. How could she hope to keep a
secret which was known to Baron Trigault, M. Patterson, the Viscount de
Coralth, and M. Fortunat--four persons! She had confidence in the first
two; she believed she had a hold on the third, but the fourth--Fortunat!

The hours went by; and still Job did not return. What was the meaning
of this delay? Had he failed to find the baron? At last the sound of
carriage-wheels in the courtyard made her start. "That's Job!" she said
to herself. "He brings the baron."

Alas! no. Job returned alone. And yet the honest fellow had spared
neither pains nor horseflesh. He had visited every place where there was
the least probability of finding the baron, and he was everywhere told
that Baron Trigault had not been seen for several days. "In that case,
you ought to have gone to his house. Perhaps he is there," remarked
Madame d'Argeles.

"Madame