ior to the friend of the family, a freedom from embarrassment
which was new to her, and a frigidity which could not possibly have
been assumed so persistently. No! what struck Madame de Nailles was the
suddenness of this transformation. Jacqueline evidently took no further
interest in Marien; she had apparently no longer any affection for
herself--she, who had been once her dear little mamma, whom she
had loved so tenderly, now felt herself to be considered only as a
stepmother. Fraulein Schult, too, received no more confidences. What did
it all mean?

Had Jacqueline, through any means, discovered a secret, which, in her
hands, might be turned into a most dangerous weapon? She had a way of
saying before the guilty pair: "Poor papa!" with an air of pity, as she
kissed him, which made Madame de Nailles's flesh creep, and sometimes
she would amuse herself by making ambiguous remarks which shot arrows
of suspicion into a heart already afraid. "I feel sure," thought
the Baroness, "that she has found out everything. But, no! it seems
impossible. How can I discover what she knows?"

Jacqueline's revenge consisted in leaving her stepmother in doubt. She
more than suspected, not without cause, that Fraulein Schult was false
to her, and had the wit to baffle all the clever questions of her
'promeneuse'.

"My worship of a man of genius--a great artist? Oh! that has all come
to an end since I have found out that his devotion belongs to an elderly
lady with a fair complexion and light hair. I am only sorry for him."

Jacqueline had great hopes that these cruel words would be reported--as
they were--to her stepmother, and, of course, they did not mitigate
the Baroness's uneasiness. Madame de Nailles revenged herself for this
insult by dismissing the innocent echo of the impertinence--of course,
under some plausible pretext. She felt it necessary also to be very
cautious how she treated the enemy whom she was forced to shelter
under her own roof. Her policy--a policy imposed on her by force of
circumstances--was one of great indulgence and consideration, so that
Jacqueline, soon feeling that she was for the present under no control,
took the bit between her teeth. No other impression can adequately
convey an idea of the sort of fury with which she plunged into
pleasure and excitement, a state of mind which apparently, without any
transition, succeeded her late melancholy. She had done with sentiment,
she thought, forever. She mean