reaked under Leonard Astier's heavy tread.

'Is that you, Paul?' he asked.

The dim light of the passage and his own agitation prevented the young
man from noticing his father's extraordinary appearance and the dazed
sound of his voice when he answered.

'How's the Master?' said the son--'So mamma's not in?'

'No, she is dining with Madame Ancelin and going on to the Francais; I
am to join them in the evening.'

After this the father and son had nothing further to say to each other.
They met like two strangers, like two men of hostile races. On this
occasion, indeed, Paul in his impatience was half inclined to ask
Leonard whether he knew anything about the marriage; but he thought the
next minute, 'No, he is too stupid; mother would never say a word to
him.' His father, who was also strongly tempted to put a question,
called him back with an air of embarrassment.

'Paul,' he said, 'I have lost--I can't find----'

'Can't find what?' asked the son.

Astier-Rehu hesitated a moment; but after looking closely at the pretty
face, whose expression, on account of the bend in the nose, was never
perfectly straightforward, he added in a gloomy, surly tone--

'No, nothing; it does not matter. I won't keep you.'

There was nothing for it but to meet his mother at the theatre in Madame
Ancelin's box. That meant two or three hours to be got through first.
Paul dismissed his carriage and ordered Stenne to bring him his dress
things at his club. Then he started for a stroll through the city in
a faint twilight, while the clipped shrubs of the Tuileries Gardens
assumed brighter colours as the sky grew dark around them. It was the
mystic hour so precious to people pursuing dreams or making plans.
The carriages grow fewer, the shadowy figures hurry by and touch the
stroller lightly. There is no interruption to the flow of a man's
thoughts. So the ambitious young fellow, who had quite recovered his
presence of mind, carried on his reflections clearly. His thoughts were
like those of Napoleon at the last hour of the battle of Waterloo: after
a long day of success defeat had come with night. What was the reason?
What mistake had he made? He replaced the pieces on the chessboard, and
looked for the explanation of failure, but in vain. It had perhaps been
rash of him to let two days pass without seeing her. But it was the most
elementary rule that after such a scene as that in the cemetery a woman
should be left to herself to recove