gel than a woman, and it was
agreed that on the next day he himself would introduce her to his wife.

CHAPTER XIV.

FALSE FRIEND, OLD LOVER.

It was on a Wednesday morning that the Duke de Champdoce, instead of, as
usual, going to his own or one of his friends' clubs to breakfast, took
his seat at the table where his wife was partaking of her morning meal.
He was in excellent spirits, gay, and full of pleasant talk, a mood in
which his wife had never seen him since their ill-fated marriage. The
Duchess could not understand this sudden change in her husband; it
terrified and alarmed her, for she felt that it was the forerunner of
some serious event, which would change the current of her life entirely.

Norbert waited until the domestics had completed their duty and retired,
and as soon as he was alone with his wife he took her hand and kissed it
with an air of gallantry.

"It has been a long time, my dear Marie, since I had resolved to open
my heart to you entirely, and now a full and open explanation has become
absolutely necessary."

"An explanation!" faltered Marie.

"Yes, certainly; but do not let the word alarm you. I fear that I must
have appeared in your eyes the most morose and disagreeable of husbands.
Permit me to explain. Since we came here, I have gone about my own
affairs, I have gone out early and returned extremely late, and
sometimes three days have elapsed without our even setting eyes on each
other."

The young Duchess listened to him like a woman who could not believe her
ears. Could this be her husband who was heaping reproaches upon himself
in this manner?

"I have made no complaint," stammered she.

"I know that, Marie; you have a noble and forgiving nature; but,
however, it is impossible, as a woman, that you should not have
condemned me."

"Indeed, but I have not done so."

"So much the better for me. On this I shall not have to find either
defence or excuse for my conduct; you must know, however, that you are
ever foremost in my thoughts, even when I am away from you."

He was evidently doing his best to put on an air of tenderness and
affection, but he failed; for though his words were kind, the tone of
his voice was neither tender nor sympathetic.

"I hope I know my duty," said the Duchess.

"Pray, Marie," broke in he, "do not let the word duty be uttered between
us. You know that you have been much alone, because it was impossible
for the friends of Mademoiselle de Puym