t respect, and as a lady
belonging to my family. We are, I believe, related to the de Verneuils."

The opposition the marquis was made to feel produced the usual effect
of such obstacles on all young men. Though he had, apparently, treated
Mademoiselle de Verneuil rather lightly, and left it to be supposed that
his passion for her was a mere caprice, he now, from a feeling of pride,
made immense strides in his relation to her. By openly protecting her,
his honor became concerned in compelling respect to her person; and he
went from group to group assuring his friends, in the tone of a man whom
it was dangerous to contradict, that the lady was really Mademoiselle
de Verneuil. The doubts and gossip ceased at once. As soon as Montauran
felt that harmony was restored and anxiety allayed, he returned to his
mistress eagerly, saying in a low voice:--

"Those mischievous people have robbed me of an hour's happiness."

"I am glad you have come back to me," she said, smiling. "I warn you
that I am inquisitive; therefore you must not get tired of my questions.
Tell me, in the first place, who is that worthy in a green cloth
jacket?"

"That is the famous Major Brigaut, a man from the Marais, a comrade of
the late Mercier, called La Vendee."

"And that fat priest with the red face to whom he is talking at this
moment about me?" she went on.

"Do you want to know what they are saying?"

"Do I want to know it? What a useless question!"

"But I could not tell it without offending you."

"If you allow me to be insulted in your house without avenging me,
marquis, adieu!" she said. "I will not stay another moment. I have
some qualms already about deceiving these poor Republicans, loyal and
confiding as they are!"

She made a few hasty steps; the marquis followed her.

"Dear Marie, listen to me. On my honor, I have silenced their evil
speaking, without knowing whether it was false or true. But, placed as
I am, if friends whom we have in all the ministries in Paris warn me
to beware of every woman I meet, and assure me that Fouche has employed
against me a Judith of the streets, it is not unnatural that my best
friends here should think you too beautiful to be an honest woman."

As he spoke the marquis plunged a glance into Mademoiselle de Verneuil's
eyes. She colored, and was unable to restrain her tears.

"I deserve these insults," she said. "I wish you really thought me that
despicable creature and still loved me; then, i