slightly wounded by
his adversary."

Madame d'Harville blushed when she reflected on the origin of this
duel,--an absurd remark addressed in her presence by the Duke de Lucenay
to M. Charles Robert. It reminded her of an _erreur_ of which she was
ashamed, and, to escape from the pain she felt, she said to her husband:

"What a singular chance! M. de Lucenay is coming to breakfast with you,
and I am going, perhaps rather indiscreetly, to invite myself this
morning to Madame de Lucenay's; for I have a great deal to say to her
about my two unknowns. From her, it is my intention to go to the prison
of St. Lazare with Madame de Blinval, for you do not know all my
projects; at this time I am intriguing to get admittance into the
workroom of the young prisoner-girls."

"You are really insatiable," said M. d'Harville, with a smile; and then
he added, with a painful emotion, which, despite his efforts, betrayed
itself a little, "Then I shall see you no more to-day."

"Does it annoy you that I should go out so early?" asked Clemence,
quickly, astonished at the tone of his voice. "If you wish it, I can put
off my visit to Madame de Lucenay."

The Marquis had nearly betrayed himself, but continued, in an
affectionate tone:

"Yes, my dear little sister, I am as annoyed to see you go out, as I
shall be impatient to see you return, and these are faults of which I
shall never be corrected."

"And you are quite right, dear; for if you did I should be very, very
sorry."

The sound of a bell, announcing a visit, was now heard.

"Here is one of your guests, no doubt," said Madame d'Harville. "I leave
you; but, by the way, what are you going to do in the evening? If you
have no better engagement, I require you to accompany me to the Italian
Opera; perhaps now you will like the music better."

"I am at your orders with the utmost pleasure."

"Are you going out by and by? Shall I see you before dinner?"

"I shall not go out; you will find me here."

"Well, then, on my return, I shall come and inquire if your bachelors'
breakfast has been amusing."

"Adieu, Clemence!"

"Adieu, dear! We shall soon meet again. I leave you a clear house, and
wish you may be as merry as possible. Be very gay and lively, mind."

Having cordially shaken her husband's hand, Clemence went out of one
door as M. de Lucenay entered by another.

"She wished me to be as merry as possible, and bade me be gay! In the
word adieu, in that last cry of my