e is wrapped up in my daughter."

Then raising her vigorous arms with grim energy, she added:

"Do you know, if my daughter were made miserable through her husband, I
should be capable of killing him."

These were the last words of the interview which decided the destiny of
Micheline, of the Prince, of Madame Desvarennes, and of Pierre. The
mistress stretched out her hand and rang the bell. A servant appeared, to
whom she gave instructions to tell Marechal to come down. She thought it
would be pleasant for Pierre to pour out his griefs into the heart of his
friend. A man weeps with difficulty before a woman, and she guessed that
the young man's heart was swollen with tears. Marechal was not far off.
He arrived in a moment, and springing toward Pierre put his arms round
his neck. When Madame Desvarennes saw the two friends fully engrossed
with each other, she said to Marechal:

"I give you leave until this evening. Then bring Pierre back with you; I
wish to see him after dinner."

And with a firm step she went toward Micheline's room, where the latter
was waiting in fear to know the result of the interview.

CHAPTER VI

A SIGNIFICANT MEETING

The mansion in the Rue Saint-Dominique is certainly one of the finest to
be seen. Sovereigns alone have more sumptuous palaces. The wide
staircase, of carved oak, is bordered by a bronze balustrade, made by
Ghirlandajo, and brought from Florence by Sommervieux, the great dealer
in curiosities. Baron Rothschild would consent to give only a hundred
thousand francs for it. Madame Desvarennes bought it. The large panels of
the staircase are hung with splendid tapestry, from designs by Boucher,
representing the different metamorphoses of Jupiter. At each
landing-place stands a massive Japanese vase of 'claisonne' enamel,
supported by a tripod of Chinese bronze, representing chimeras. On the
first floor, tall columns of red granite, crowned by gilt capitals,
divide the staircase from a gallery, serving as a conservatory. Plaited
blinds of crimson silk hang before the Gothic windows, filled with
marvellous stained glass.

In the vestibule-the hangings of which are of Cordova-leather, with gold
ground-seemingly awaiting the good pleasure of some grand lady, is a
sedan-chair, decorated with paintings by Fragonard. Farther on, there is
one of those superb carved mother-of-pearl coffers, in which Oriental
women lay by their finery and jewellery. A splendid Venetian mirror, its