found herself in Pierre's arms. The situation was becoming singularly
perplexing to Serge. Cayrol, who had not lost his presence of mind,
understood it, and turning toward the Prince, said:

"Monsieur Pierre Delarue: an old friend and companion of Mademoiselle
Desvarennes's; almost a brother to her," thus explaining in one word all
that could appear unusual in such a scene of tenderness.

Then, addressing Pierre, he simply added--"Prince Panine."

The two men looked at each other. Serge, with haughty curiosity; Pierre,
with inexpressible rage. In a moment, he guessed that the tall, handsome
man beside his betrothed was his rival. If looks could kill, the Prince
would have fallen down dead. Panine did not deign to notice the hatred
which glistened in the eyes of the newcomer. He turned toward Micheline
with exquisite grace and said:

"Your mother receives her friends this evening, I think, Mademoiselle; I
shall have the honor of paying my respects to her."

And taking leave of Jeanne with a smile, and of Pierre with a courteous
bow, he left, accompanied by Cayrol.

Serge's departure was a relief to Micheline. Between these two men to
whom she belonged, to the one by a promise, to the other by an avowal,
she felt ashamed. Left alone with Pierre she recovered her self-
possession, and felt full of pity for the poor fellow threatened with
such cruel deception. She went tenderly to him, with her loving eyes of
old, and pressed his hand: