shocking, in this tableau, that she stood for some seconds pale and
breathless, and gazing with a vacant stare of fear and horror from her
husband to the French girl, and from her to her husband again. The three
figures in this strange group remained fixed, silent, and aghast, for
several seconds. Mrs. Marston endeavored to speak; but, though her lips
moved, no sound escaped her; and, from very weakness, she sank,
half-fainting, into a chair.

Marston rose, throwing, as he did so, a guilty and furious glance at the
young Frenchwoman, and walked a step or two toward the door; he
hesitated, however, and turned, just as mademoiselle, bursting into
tears, threw her arms round Mrs. Marston's neck, and passionately
exclaimed, "Protect me, madame, I implore, from the insults and
suspicions of your husband."

Marston stood a little behind his wife, and he and the governess
exchanged a glance of keen significance, as the latter sank, sobbing,
like an injured child into its mother's embrace, upon the poor lady's
tortured bosom.

"Madame, madame! he says--Mr. Marston says--I have presumed to give you
advice, and to meddle, and to interfere; that I am endeavoring to make
you despise his authority. Madame, speak for me. Say, madame, have I ever
done so?--say, madame, am I the cause of bitterness and contumacy? Ah,
mon Dieu! c'est trop--it is too much, madame. I shall go--I must go,
madame. Why, ah! why, did I stay for this?"

As she thus spoke, mademoiselle again burst into a paroxysm of weeping,
and again the same significant glance was interchanged.