oler while waiting, and troubled at the length of
the interview, showed his anxious face on the threshold. He saw Madame
Desvarennes grave, and Jeanne collected. He dared not speak.

"Cayrol, everything is explained," said the mistress. "You have nothing
to fear from him whom you suspected. He is separated from Jeanne forever,
And; besides, nothing has passed between him and her who is your wife
that could arouse your jealousy. I will not tell you the name of this man
now. But if perchance he by some impossibility reappeared and threatened
your happiness, I would myself--you understand, me?--point him out to
you!"

Cayrol remained thinking for, a moment; then addressing Madame
Desvarennes, replied:

"It is well. I have confidence in you."

Then turning toward Jeanne, he added:

"Forgive me and let everything be forgotten."

The mistress's face beamed with joy, as she followed their departing
figures with her eyes, and murmured:

"Brave hearts!"

Then, changing her expression:

"Now for the other one!" exclaimed she.

And she went out on to the terrace.

CHAPTER XII

THE FETE

The air was mild, the night clear and bright. Cayrol's carriage rolled
rapidly along the broad avenue of the park shadowed by tall trees, the
lanterns throwing, as they passed, their quivering light on the thickets.
The rumbling carriages took the last guests to the railway station. It
was past midnight. A nightingale began singing his song of love to the
stars.

Madame Desvarennes mechanically stopped to listen. A sense of sorrow came
over this mother who was a prey to the most cruel mental anguish. She
thought that she could have been very happy on that splendid night, if
her heart had been full of quietude and serenity. Her two daughters were
married; her last task was accomplished. She ought to have nothing to do
but enjoy life after her own fashioning, and be calm and satisfied.
Instead of that, here were fear and dissimulation taking possession of
her mind; and an ardent, pitiless struggle beginning against the man who
had deceived her daughter and lied to her. The bark which carried her
fortune, on reaching port, had caught fire, and it was necessary to begin
laboring again amid cares and pains.

A dull rage filled her heart. To have so surely built up the edifice of
her happiness, to have embellished it every hour, and then to see an
intruder audaciously taking possession of it, and making his despotic and
hateful