She stopped, expecting an answer, a word, an exclamation. But, as M. de Tregars said nothing, “Did you never notice any thing then?” she asked. “Nothing.” “And suppose I were to tell you myself, that my poor Cesarine, alas! --loves you?” M. de Tregars started. Had he been less occupied with the personage in the grand parlor, he would certainly not have allowed the conversation to drift in this channel. He understood his mistake; and, in an icy tone, “Permit me, madame,” he said, “to believe that you are jesting.” “And suppose it were the truth.” “It would make me unhappy in the extreme.” “Sir!” “For the reason which I have already told you, that I love Mlle. Gilberte Favoral with the deepest and the purest love, and that for the past three years she has been, before God, my affianced bride.” Something like a flash of anger passed over Mme. de Thaller’s eyes. “And I,” she exclaimed,--“I tell you that this marriage is senseless.” “I wish it were still more so, that I might the better show to Gilberte how dear she is to me.” Calm in appearance, the baroness was scratching with her nails the satin of the chair on which she was sitting. “Then,” she went on, “your resolution is settled.” “Irrevocably.” “Still, now, come, between us who are no longer children, suppose M. de Thaller were to double Cesarine’s dowry, to treble it?” An expression of intense disgust contracted the manly features of Marius de Tregars. “Ah! not another word, madame,” he interrupted. There was no hope left. Mme. de Thaller fully realized it by the tone in which he spoke. She remained pensive for over a minute, and suddenly, like a person who has finally made up her mind, she rang. A footman appeared. “Do what I told you!” she ordered. And as soon as the footman had gone, turning to M. de Tregars, “Alas!” she said, “who would have thought that I would curse the day when you first entered our house?” But, whilst, she spoke, M. de Tregars noticed in the glass the result of the order she had just given. The footman walked into the grand parlor, spoke a few words; and at once the man with the alarming countenance put on his hat and went out. “This is very strange!” thought M. de Tregars. Meantime, the baroness was going on, “If your intentions are to that point irrevocable, how is it that you are here? You have too much experience of the world not to have understood, this morning, the object of my visit and of my allusions.” Fortunately, M. de Tregars’ attention was no longer drawn by the proceedings in the next room. The decisive moment had come: the success of the game he was playing would, perhaps, depend upon his coolness and self-command. “It is because I did understand, madame, and even better than you suppose, that I am here.” “Indeed!” “I came, expecting to deal with M. de Thaller alone. I have been compelled, by what has happened, to alter my intentions. It is to you that I must speak first.”