e top steps she found herself face to
face with George de Croisenois, pallid with emotion and quivering with
excitement.

At the sight of the man she loved she started backwards with a low cry
of anguish and despair.

"Fly!" she said "fly, or we are lost!"

He did not, however, seem to hear her, and the Duchess recoiled slowly,
step by step, through the open door of her chamber, across the carpeted
floor, until she reached the opposite wall of her room, and could go no
farther.

George followed her, and pushed to the door of the room as he entered
it. This brief delay, however, had sufficed to restore Marie to the full
possession of her senses. "If I permit him to speak," thought she,--"if
he once suspects that my love for him is still as strong as ever, I am
lost."

Then she said aloud,--

"You must leave this house, and that instantly. I was mad when I said
what I did yesterday. You are too noble and too generous not to listen
to me when I tell you that the moment of infatuation is over, and that
all my reason has returned to me, and my openness will convince you of
the truth of what I say--George de Croisenois, I love you."

The young man uttered an exclamation of delight upon hearing this news.

"Yes," continued Marie, "I would give half the years of my remaining
life to be your wife. Yes, George, I love you; but the voice of duty
speaks louder than the whispers of the heart. I may die of grief, but
there will be no stain upon my marriage robe, no remorse eating out my
heart. Farewell!"

But the Marquis would not consent to this immediate dismissal, and
appeared to be about to speak.

"Go!" said the Duchess, with an air of command. "Leave me at once!"
Then, as he made no effort to obey her, she went on, "If you really love
me, let my honor be as dear to you as your own, and never try to see
me again. The peril we are now in shows how necessary this last
determination of mine is. I am the Duchess de Champdoce, and I will keep
the name that has been intrusted to me pure and unsullied, nor will I
stoop to treachery or deception."

"Why do you use the word deception?" asked he. "I do, it is true,
despise the woman who smiles upon the husband she is betraying, but I
respect and honor the woman who risks all to follow the fortunes of the
man she loves. Lay aside, Marie, name, title, fortune, and fly with me."

"I love you too much, George," answered she gently, "to ruin your
future, for the day would surel