It was with such thoughts as these revolving in his brain that the intendant's son walked through the woods of the park. He followed no path, for he knew each tree and twig from childhood. Suddenly he was interrupted in his reverie by the sound of voices, and stopping short, recognized the voice of the Marquis de Lacheville in conversation with a woman. Tournay hesitated, then went forward cautiously in the direction whence the sound came. Had he been born a gentleman he would have chosen another way; or at least would have advanced noisily. Indeed, such had been his first impulse,--but a much stronger interest than curiosity impelled him forward; and drawing near, he looked through a gap in the hedge. On the other side stood de Lacheville facing a young woman. Her cheeks were flushed, and the manner in which she toyed with a riding-whip showed that the discussion had been heated. Although she was handsomely dressed in a riding-habit and assumed some of the airs of a lady, Tournay recognized her at once as a young girl who had disappeared some months before from the village of La Thierry, and whose handsome face and vivacious manner had caused her to be much admired. Near her stood the nobleman, calm and self-composed. Before men, de Lacheville had been known to flinch; but with a woman of the humbler class the marquis could always play the master. "And now, Marianne," said the nobleman slowly, "you had better go,--and do not make the mistake of coming here again." Although she had evidently been worsted in the argument, a defiant look flashed in her dark eyes as she answered him: "If I believe you speak the truth I shall not come here again." [Illustration: DE LACHEVILLE FACING A YOUNG WOMAN] "Of course I speak the truth," replied de Lacheville lightly. "I shall marry Mademoiselle de Rochefort"-- The young woman winced, but she did not speak. De Lacheville went on slowly as if he enjoyed the situation--"In a year or two--I am in no hurry. She is very beautiful"--here he paused again--"but I prefer your style of beauty, Marianne; I prefer your vivacity, your life, your fire; I like to see you angry. My engagement to Mademoiselle de Rochefort need make no difference in my regard for you. That depends upon yourself." Here the marquis stepped forward and kissed her on the lips. Tournay controlled himself by a great effort, his heart swelling with the resentment of a man who hears that which he holds sacred insulted by another. And this man who held Mademoiselle de Rochefort in such slight esteem was to be her husband. "And now, Marianne," said the nobleman, "you must ride away as you came," and suiting the action to the words he swung her into the saddle. She was docile now and gathered up the reins obediently. "And, Marianne," continued the nobleman, "never write letters to me. I am rather fastidious and do not want my illusions dispelled too soon. Good-by, my child."