plaintive ejaculations; and it was curious to observe, as the
narrative proceeded, how the widow's charming eyes flashed and
sparkled, and her cheeks glowed with indignation, till she looked, to
use Edouard le Blanc's expression, 'ferociously' handsome. 'Le
monstre!' she exclaimed, as Eugene terminated the sad history,
gathering up as she spoke the shawl and gloves she had just before put
off; 'but I shall see him at once: I have influence with this Monsieur
de Veron.'

'Nonsense, Emilie,' said Madame le Blanc. '_You_ possess influence
over Monsieur de Veron!'

'Certainly I do. And is that such a miracle?' replied Madame Carson
with a demure glance at Edouard le Blanc. Edouard looked somewhat
scared, but managed to say: 'Not at all, certainly not; but this man's
heart is iron--steel.'

'We shall see,' said the fair widow, as she finished drawing on her
gloves. '_La grande passion_ is sometimes stronger than iron or steel:
is it not Monsieur Eugene? At all events, I shall try. He is in the
church, you say. Very well, if I fail--but I am sure I shall _not_
fail--I return in ten minutes, and that will leave Mademoiselle
Adeline's despairing lover plenty of time to make his submission, if
better may not be; and so _au revoir_, Mesdames et Messieurs.'

'What can she mean?' said Madame le Blanc as the door closed. 'I have
noticed, once or twice during the last fortnight, that she has made
use of strange half-hints relative to Monsieur de Veron.'

'I don't know what she can mean,' said Edouard le Blanc, seizing his
hat and hurrying off; 'but I shall follow, and strive to ascertain.'

He was just in time to catch a glimpse of Madame Carson's skirts as
they whisked round the corner of the Rue St Jacques, and by
quickening his speed, he saw her enter the church from that street.
Notre Dame was crowded; but Edouard le Blanc had no difficulty in
singling out M. de Veron, who was sitting in his accustomed chair,
somewhat removed from the mass of worshippers, on the left of the high
altar; and presently he discerned Madame Carson gently and adroitly
making her way through the crowd towards him. The instant she was near
enough, she tapped him slightly on the shoulder. He turned quickly,
and stared with a haughty, questioning glance at the smiling
confectioner. There was no _grande passion_ in that look, Edouard felt
quite satisfied, and Madame Carson's conduct seemed more than ever
unintelligible. She appeared to say something,