cqueline will be exposed to see strange things; how could you have
consented--"

"Consented? As if she cared for my consent! And then she manages to say
such irritating things as soon as one attempts to blame her or advise
her. For example, this is one of them: 'Don't you suppose,' she said to
me, 'that every one will take the most agreeable chance that offers for
a visit to Italy?' What do you think of that allusion? It closed my lips
absolutely."

"Perhaps she did not mean what you think she meant."

"Do you think so? And when I warned her against Madame Strahlberg,
saying that she might set her a very bad example, she answered: 'I may
have had worse.' I suppose that was not meant for impertinence either!"

"I don't know," said Hubert Marien, biting his lips doubtfully, "but--"

He was silent a few moments, his head drooped on his breast, he was in
some painful reverie.

"Go on. What are you thinking about?" asked Madame de Nailles,
impatiently.

"I beg your pardon. I was only thinking that a certain responsibility
might rest on those who have made that young girl what she is."

"I don't understand you," said the stepmother, with an impatient
gesture. "Who can do anything to counteract a bad disposition? You don't
deny that hers is bad? She is a very devil for pride and obstinacy--she
has no affection--she has proved it. I have no inclination to get myself
wounded by trying to control her."

"Then you prefer to let her ruin herself?"

"I should prefer not to give the world a chance to talk, by coming to an
open rupture with her, which would certainly be the case if I tried to
contradict her. After all, the Sparks and Madame Odinska are not yet put
out of the pale of good society, and she knew them long ago. An early
intimacy may be a good explanation if people blame her for going too
far--"

"So be it, then; if you are satisfied it is not for me to say anything,"
replied Marien, coldly.

"Satisfied? I am not satisfied with anything or anybody," said Madame de
Nailles, indignantly. "How could I be satisfied; I never have met with
anything but ingratitude."

CHAPTER XVI. THE SAILOR'S RETURN

Madame D'Argy did not leave her son in ignorance of all the freaks and
follies of Jacqueline. He knew every particular of the wrong-doings and
the imprudences of his early friend, and even the additions made to
them by calumny, ever since the fit of in dependence which, after her
father's death, had led her t