which they did not dare to speak.

"And now, my lord," said Julie, and she came and stood before Arthur
with a great dignity, which allowed her to take his hand in hers. "I
am going to ask you to hallow and purify the life which you have given
back to me. Here, we will part. I know," she added, as she saw how
white his face grew, "I know that I am repaying you for your devotion
by requiring of you a sacrifice even greater than any which you have
hitherto made for me, sacrifices so great that they should receive
some better recompense than this. . . . But it must be. . . You must
not stay in France. By laying this command upon you, do I not give you
rights which shall be held sacred?" she added, holding his hand
against her beating heart.

"Yes," said Arthur, and he rose.

He looked in the direction of d'Aiglemont, who appeared on the
opposite side of one of the hollow walks with the child in his arms.
He had scrambled up on the balustrade by the chateau that little
Helene might jump down.

"Julie, I will not say a word of my love; we understand each other too
well. Deeply and carefully though I have hidden the pleasures of my
heart, you have shared them all, I feel it, I know it, I see it. And
now, at this moment, as I receive this delicious proof of the constant
sympathy of our hearts, I must go. . . . Cunning schemes for getting
rid of him have crossed my mind too often; the temptation might be
irresistible if I stayed with you."

"I had the same thought," she said, a look of pained surprise in her