Jacqueline, haughtily.

"Because you do not believe in the magnetism of a fixed desire."

"No, I do not believe any such thing, when, opposed to such a desire,
there is a strong, firm will," said Jacqueline, her eyes burning.

"Ah!" he murmured, and he might have been supposed to be really moved,
so much his look changed, "do not abuse your power over me--do not make
me wretched; if you could only understand--"

She made a swift movement to rejoin Madame Strahlberg, but that lady was
already coming toward them with the same careless ease with which she
had left them together.

"Well! you have each found an old acquaintance," she said, gayly. "I beg
your pardon, my loveliest, but I had to speak to some old friends, and
ask them to join us to-morrow evening. We shall sup at the restaurant
of the Grand Hotel, after the opera--for, I did not tell you before,
you will have the good luck to hear Patti. Monsieur de Cymier, we shall
expect you. Au revoir."

He had been on the point of asking leave to walk home with them. But
there was something in Jacqueline's look, and in her stubborn silence,
that deterred him. He thought it best to leave a skilful advocate to
plead his cause before he continued a conversation which had not
begun satisfactorily. Not that Gerard de Cymier was discouraged by
the behavior of Jacqueline. He had expected her to be angry at his
defection, and that she would make him pay for it; but a little skill on
his part, and a little credulity on hers, backed by the intervention of
a third party, might set things right.

One moment he lingered to look at her, admiring her as she stood in
the light of the dying sun, as beautiful in her plain dress and her
indignant paleness, while she looked far out to sea, that she might
not be obliged to look at him, as she had been when he had known her in
prosperity.

At that moment he knew she hated him, but it would be an additional
delight to overcome that feeling.

The two women, when he left them, continued walking on the terrace side
by side, without a word. Wanda watched her companion out of the corners
of her eyes, and hummed an air to herself to break the silence. She saw
a storm gathering under Jacqueline's black eyebrows, and knew that sharp
arrows were likely to shoot forth from those lips which several times
had opened, though not a word had been uttered, probably through fear of
saying too little or too much.

At last she made some trifling commen