dangerous--very dangerous--for you."

"I have decided. Where shall I meet you?"

"Meet me about midnight in the Place de la Concorde."

"I will be there."

He clasped her hand. "Oh, how I love you! How brave and good you are!
Then you do not want to marry Marquis de Cazolles?"

"Oh, no!"

Mme. Walter, turning her head, called out: "Come, little one; what are
you and Bel-Ami doing?"

They rejoined the others and returned by way of Chatou. When the
carriage arrived at the door of the mansion, Mme. Walter pressed
Georges to dine with them, but he refused, and returned home to look
over his papers and destroy any compromising letters. Then he repaired
in a cab with feverish haste to the place of meeting. He waited there
some time, and thinking his ladylove had played him false, he was about
to drive off, when a gentle voice whispered at the door of his cab:
"Are you there, Bel-Ami?"

"Is it you, Suzanne?"

"Yes."

"Ah, get in." She entered the cab and he bade the cabman drive on.

He asked: "Well, how did it all pass off?"

She murmured faintly:

"Oh, it was terrible, with mamma especially."

"Your mamma? What did she say? Tell me!"

"Oh, it was frightful! I entered her room and made the little speech I
had prepared. She turned pale and cried: 'Never!' I wept, I protested
that I would marry only you; she was like a mad woman; she vowed I
should be sent to a convent. I never saw her like that, never. Papa,
hearing her agitated words, entered. He was not as angry as she was,
but he said you were not a suitable match for me. As they had vexed me,
I talked louder than they, and papa with a dramatic air bade me leave
the room. That decided me to fly with you. And here I am; where shall
we go?"

He replied, encircling her waist with his arm: "It is too late to take
the train; this cab will take us to Sevres where we can spend the
night, and to-morrow we will leave for La Roche-Guyon. It is a pretty
village on the banks of the Seine between Mantes and Bonnieres."

The cab rolled on. Georges took the young girl's hand and kissed it
respectfully. He did not know what to say to her, being unaccustomed to
Platonic affection. Suddenly he perceived that she was weeping. He
asked in affright:

"What ails you, my dear little one?"

She replied tearfully: "I was thinking that poor mamma could not sleep
if she had found out that I was gone!"

* * * * * * *

Her mother in