"Well, mine, then," he replied, roughly; "we shan't quarrel about that."

"And when--how soon--do you wish me to speak to her on this, to both of
us, most painful subject?" asked she, with a sigh.

"Today--this hour--this minute, if you can; in short the sooner the
better," he replied, rising. "I see no reason for holding it back any
longer. I am sorry my wishes were not complied with immediately. Pray,
let there be no further hesitation or delay. I shall expect to learn this
evening that all is arranged."

Marston having thus spoken, left her abruptly, went down to his study
with a swift step, shut himself in, and throwing himself into a great
chair, gave a loose to his agitation, which was extreme.

Meanwhile Mrs. Marston had sent for Mademoiselle de Barras, anxious to
get through her painful task as speedily as possible. The fair French
girl quickly presented herself.

"Sit down, mademoiselle," said Mrs. Marston, taking her hand kindly, and
drawing her to the prie-dieu chair beside herself.

Mademoiselle de Barras sate down, and, as she did so, read the
countenance of her patroness with one rapid glance of her flashing eyes.
These eyes, however, when Mrs. Marston looked at her the next moment,
were sunk softly and sadly upon the floor. There was a heightened color,
however, in her cheek, and a quicker heaving of her bosom, which
indicated the excitement of an anticipated and painful disclosure. The
outward contrast of the two women, whose hands were so lovingly locked