Maitland with the secret return of his rival. Perhaps the drama had not
yet taken place, and if only the two persons threatened were warned, no
doubt Hafner would put Countess Steno upon her guard. But when would he
see her? What if he, Dorsenne, should at once tell Maitland's brother-
in-law of Gorka's return, to that Florent Chapron whom he saw at the
moment glancing at all the objects of the princely exposition? The step
was an enormous undertaking, and would have appeared so to any one but
Julien, who knew that the relations between Florent Chapron and Lincoln
Maitland were of a very exceptional nature. Julien knew that Florent--
sent when very young to the Jesuits of Beaumont, in England, by a father
anxious to spare him the humiliation which his blood would call down upon
him in America--had formed a friendship with Lincoln, a pupil in the same
school. He knew that the friendship for the schoolmate had turned to
enthusiasm for the artist, when the talent of his old comrade had begun
to reveal itself. He knew that the marriage, which had placed the
fortune of Lydia at the service of the development of the painter,
had been the work of that enthusiasm at an epoch when Maitland, spoiled
by the unwise government of his mother, and unappreciated by the public,
was wrung by despair. The exceptional character of the marriage would
have surprised a man less heeding of moral peculiarities than was
Dorsenne, who had observed, all too frequently, the silence and reserve
of that sister not to look upon her as a sacrifice. He fancied that
admiration for his brother-in-law's genius had blinded Florent to such a
degree that he was the first cause of the sacrifice.

"Drama for drama," said he to himself, as the visit drew near its close,
and after a long debate with himself. "I should prefer to have it one
rather than the other in that family. I should reproach myself all my
life for not having tried every means." They were in the last room,
and Baron Hafner was just fastening the strings of an album of drawings,