Madame de Hansfeld saw herself doomed to drag on a wearisome existence beside a man who cared not for her, he even loved another, and his heart, shut for ever against any warmer feeling for Paula than pity and regret, could but coldly and feebly seek, by surrounding her with every worldly enjoyment, to atone for those suspicions to which she had been sacrificed. And while separated from the object of her new affection by an insuperable obstacle, she saw, through the enchanting rays of love, one young, handsome, and devoted, so passionately devoted as to have been willing to sacrifice at her feet the two leading idols of his life--_his mother and his promise_--and, amid all this, Paula had not even the gratification of thinking that by devoting herself to her duties she in the smallest degree contributed to the happiness of M. de Hansfeld, who, on his side, finding in Bertha the most seductive union of personal graces and perfect sweetness of character, gave himself up without a struggle to the delights of a passion as pure and fervid as that which now filled his breast, finding full excuse in the frigid indifference Paula had ever evinced towards him. Such was the situation of M. and Madame de Hansfeld at the moment when, by way of conciliating M. de Brévannes, who had it in his power to calumniate her so fearfully, Paula was about to receive both himself and his wife at the Hôtel Lambert. The infatuation of Paula had now reached a point that rendered it quite impossible for her much longer to endure her present position. She had named eight days to M. de Morville as the period for acquainting him with her final resolution, because she trusted that ere then her future destiny would be decided. Either she would courageously accept the propositions of Iris, or her own hand should take away her life if the project of the mulatto appeared to her to require a too direct or too personal a co-operation. Nothing is more strange, yet at the same time real, than the tiny particles fraught with deadly sin, which, floating over the subdued conscience, form at last a mass of guilt, startling and fearful to contemplate. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The result of Madame de Hansfeld's deep reverie was to summon Iris; the ready messenger of evil came quickly at her call. CHAPTER XLIII THE PIN "You sent for me, godmother?" said Iris. "Yes; shut the door, see that no one can overhear us." Iris went out for a moment, and then returned. "No one, godmother." Paula's heart beat in a strange manner, and she lowered her eyes before the searching glance of the gipsy girl; at length she said, making an effort over herself,-- "Listen to me attentively. The conversation I am about to have with you will be the last we shall ever have on the subject of--you know what. You said to me some days since,--'a word--a sign from you--this pin'--I suppose--and----" Paula could not finish the sentence. Iris replied,-- "And you are free!" "You told me so."