"Its meaning?" cried Mlle. Valerie; and it was Yvon's self that flashed upon her aunt. "The meaning is that this gentleman has saved my life. Yes, my aunt! Look as you please; if he had not been here, and a hero,--a _hero_,--I should be devoured by the flames. Look!" and she pointed to the fragments of muslin, which were floating off in black rags. "He caught it from me, when I was in flames. He crushed it in his hands,--these poor hands, which are destroyed, I tell you, with pain. What shall we do,--what can we ever do, to thank him?" The old lady looked from one to the other; her face was grim enough, but her words were courteous. "We are grateful, indeed, to monsieur!" she said. "The only thing we can do for him, my niece, is to bind his hands with soothing ointment; I will attend to this matter myself. You are agitated, Valerie, and I advise you to go to your own room, and let Felice bring you a potion. If M. D'Arthenay will follow me into my salon, I will see to these injured hands." How a cold touch can take the colour out of life. An instant before I was a hero, not in my own eyes, but surely in those tender blue ones that now shone through angry tears, and--I knew not what sweet folly was springing up in me while she held my hands in hers. Now, I was only a young man with dirty and blackened fingers, standing in a constrained position, and, I make no doubt, looking a great fool. The young lady vanished, and I followed madame into the little room. I am bound to say that she treated my scorched hands with perfect skill. When Yvon came rushing in a few minutes later,--he had heard the story from his sister, and was for falling on my neck, and calling me his brother, the saviour of his cherished sister,--I know not what wild nonsense,--Mme. de Lalange cut his expressions short. "M. le Marquis," she said, and she put a curious emphasis on the title, I thought; "M. le Marquis, it will be well, believe me, for you to leave this gentleman with me for a short time. He has suffered a shock, more violent than he yet realises. His hands are painfully burned, yet I hope to relieve his sufferings in a few minutes. I suggest that you retire to your own apartments, where M. D'Arthenay will join you, say in half an hour." Generally, Yvon paid little heed to his aunt, rather taking pleasure in thwarting her, which was wrong, no doubt, yet her aspect invited it; but on this occasion, she daunted us both. There was a weight in her words, a command in her voice, which I, for one, was not inclined at that moment to dispute; and Yvon, after an angry stare, and a few muttered words of protest, went away, only charging me to be with him within the half-hour. Left alone with the ancient lady, there was silence for a time. I could not think what she wanted with me; she had shown no love for my society since I had been in the house. I waited, thinking it the part of courtesy to let her begin the conversation, if she desired any.