Martial advanced a few steps, and Mlle. Blanche, on seeing him, sprang
up with a pretty affectation of intense timidity.

Bowing low before her, he said, gently, and with profound deference:

"Monsieur de Courtornieu, Mademoiselle, was so kind as to tell me where
I might have the honor of finding you. I had not courage to brave those
formidable discussions inside; but----"

He pointed to the letter the young girl held in her hand, and added:

"But I fear that I am _de trap_."

"Oh! not in the least, Monsieur le Marquis, although this letter which
I have just been reading has, I confess, interested me deeply. It was
written by a poor child in whom I have taken a great interest--whom I
have sent for sometimes when I was lonely--Marie-Anne Lacheneur."

Accustomed from his infancy to the hypocrisy of drawing-rooms, the young
marquis had taught his face not to betray his feelings.

He could have laughed gayly with anguish at his heart; he could have
preserved the sternest gravity when inwardly convulsed with merriment.

And yet, this name of Marie-Anne upon the lips of Mlle. de Courtornieu,
caused his glance to waver.

"They know each other!" he thought.

In an instant he was himself again; but Mlle. Blanche had perceived his