ffliction, I will again call on you to tender my respectful
sympathies."

Time wore on, and with it brought those alleviations it affords to
even the keenest sorrow. The assiduity of friends compelled Madame
Lioncourt to lay aside her widow's weeds, and reappear in the great
world of fashion. There, whatever may have been her secret sorrow, she
learned to wear the mask of a smiling exterior, and even to appear
gayest among the gay, as if she sought forgetfulness in the wildest
excitement and most frivolous amusement.

During all this time, St. Eustache, who had got a military appointment
at Paris, was ever at her side. It was impossible for her to avoid
him. He escorted her to her carriage when she left a ball room; he was
the first to claim her hand when she entered. He was so respectful, so
sad, so humble, that it was impossible to take offence at his
assiduities, and she even began to like him in spite of former
prejudices. Though it was evident that the freedom of her hand had
renewed his former hopes, still no words of his ever betrayed their
revival; only sometimes a suppressed sigh, the trembling of his hand
as it touched hers, gave evidence that could not be mistaken.

Affairs were in this condition, when a brother of Leonide, Alfred
Lasalle, a young advocate from the provinces, came to establish
himself in Paris. He at once became the protector and guardian of his
sister, and, as such, conceived the same violent dislike to St.
Eustache that Leonide had formerly entertained towards him. St.
Eustache, after many fruitless attempts to conciliate the brother,
gave it up in despair. Still, whenever Alfred's affairs called him
away, he supplied his place with the young widow.

At this time, play sometimes ran very high in the salons of the
capital; and Leonide rose from the _ecarte_ table one night, indebted
to St. Eustache in the sum of a thousand crowns.

"Call on me to-morrow," said Leonide, with a flushed face, "and I will
repay you."

St. Eustache was pretty well acquainted with the affairs of the young
widow. He knew that she had been living on her capital for some time,
and that she had reached the limit of her resources. He knew that it
was utterly impossible for her to raise a thousand crowns in
twenty-four hours. She must, therefore, he thought, cancel her debt by
her hand. This was the alternative to which he had been manoeuvring
to bring her; therefore he entered her salon the next day with the air