ntolerable degradation of
marrying a commoner.

'There then, there then,' said Madame Astier, unaffected by the torrent
of grief. 'You are come from the cemetery, I suppose, where you have
been working up your feelings again. But you know, dear, there must
be an end to _Artemisia!_' She understood the woman's weak vanity, and
insisted on the absurdity of this interminable mourning, ridiculous in
the eyes of the world, and at all events injurious to her beauty And
after all, it was not a question of a second love-match! What was
proposed was no more than an alliance between two names and titles
equally noble. Herbert himself, if he saw her from heaven, must be
content.

'He did understand things, certainly, poor dear,' sighed Colette de
Rosen, whose maiden name was Sauvadon. She was set on becoming 'Madame
l'Ambassadrice,' and still more on remaining 'Madame la Princesse.'

'Look, dear, will you have a piece of good advice? You just run away.
Sammy will start in a week. Do not wait for him. Take Lavaux. He knows
St. Petersburg, and will settle you there meanwhile. And there will be
this advantage, that you will escape a painful scene with the Duchess. A
Corsican, you know, is capable of anything.'

'Ye-es, perhaps I had better go,' said Madame de Rosen, to whom the
chief merit of the plan was that she would avoid any fresh attack, and
put distance between her and the folly of the afternoon.

'Is it the tomb?' asked Madame Astier, seeing her hesitate. 'Is that
it? Why, Paul will finish it very well without you. Come, pet, no more
tears. You may water your beauty, but you must not over-water it.' As
she went away in the fading light to wait for her omnibus, the good lady
said to herself, 'Oh dear, D'Athis will never know what his marriage is
costing me!' And here her feeling of weariness, her longing for a good
rest after so many trials, reminded her suddenly that the most trying of
all was to come, the discovery and confession at home. She had not
yet had time to think about it, and now she was going fast towards
it, nearer and nearer with every turn of the heavy wheels. The very
anticipation made her shudder: it was not fear; but the frantic outcries
of Astier-Rehu, his big rough voice, the answer that must be given, and
then the inevitable reappearance of his trunk--oh, what a weariness it
would be! Could it not be put off till to-morrow? She was tempted not
to confess at once, but to turn suspicion upon some one e