"He went to the notary who sent the five hundred francs, for Madame de la Rochaigue wished to ascertain the address so she could send it to M. de Maillefort." "What, does M. de Maillefort, too, know Herminie?" "I cannot say, mademoiselle, all I know is that the steward took Herminie's address to M. le marquis nearly a month ago." "Get me the address at once, my dear Laine." In a few minutes the governess brought the address and Ernestine immediately sat down and wrote as follows: * * * * * "MY DEAR HERMINIE:--You invited me to come and see your pretty room. I shall come early day after to-morrow--Tuesday, early in the morning, so I may be sure of not interfering in your work. I look forward with delight to seeing you again. I have a thousand things to tell you. With love, "Your sincere friend, "ERNESTINE." * * * * * After she had sealed this note, Mlle. de Beaumesnil said to her governess: "I wish you to post this letter yourself, my dear Laine." "Yes, mademoiselle." "How shall I manage to get out alone with Madame Laine day after to-morrow?" Ernestine said to herself. "I have no idea, but my heart tells me that I shall see Herminie again!" CHAPTER V. A CONSUMING FEVER OF LOVE. On the morning of the same day that mademoiselle had appointed for her visit to Herminie, Gerald de Senneterre was having a long conversation with Olivier. The two young men were sitting under the little arbour of which Commander Bernard was so fond. The young duke's face was extremely pale and agitated. In fact, he seemed a prey to the deepest anxiety and distress. "So you will see her, my dear Olivier," he was saying to his friend. "At once. I wrote to her last evening requesting an interview. She has not answered my note, so she consents." "Then in an hour my fate will be decided," groaned Gerald. "I am forced to admit that I think this a very serious matter," said Olivier. "You know, even better than I do, how proud this young girl is, and that which would be our greatest chance of success with any one else will be almost sure to have an exactly opposite effect in her case. Still, we will not despair." "But, Olivier, if I should be obliged to give her up, I don't know how I could bear it!" exclaimed Gerald, hoarsely. "I should kill myself, I believe!" "Gerald! Gerald!" "Yes, I admit it. I love her to distraction. I never believed before that even the most impassioned love could attain such a degree of intensity. My love is a consuming fever,--a fixed idea that absorbs me utterly. You know Herminie--" "Yes, and I know that a more noble and beautiful creature never lived." "Olivier, I am the most miserable of men!" exclaimed Gerald, burying his face in his hands.