“I am on a visit to my aunt, Mme. de Sautron. It was with her that I came to the play yesterday. We have been dull at the chateau; but it will be different now. Madame my aunt is receiving several guests to-day. M. de La Tour d’Azyr is to be one of them.” Andre-Louis frowned and sighed. “Did you ever hear, Aline, how poor Philippe de Vilmorin came by his end?” “Yes; I was told, first by my uncle; then by M. de La Tour d’Azyr, himself.” “Did not that help you to decide this marriage question?” “How could it? You forget that I am but a woman. You don’t expect me to judge between men in matters such as these?” “Why not? You are well able to do so. The more since you have heard two sides. For my godfather would tell you the truth. If you cannot judge, it is that you do not wish to judge.” His tone became harsh. “Wilfully you close your eyes to justice that might check the course of your unhealthy, unnatural ambition.” “Excellent!” she exclaimed, and considered him with amusement and something else. “Do you know that you are almost droll? You rise unblushing from the dregs of life in which I find you, and shake off the arm of that theatre girl, to come and preach to me.” “If these were the dregs of life I might still speak from them to counsel you out of my respect and devotion, Aline.” He was very, stiff and stern. “But they are not the dregs of life. Honour and virtue are possible to a theatre girl; they are impossible to a lady who sells herself to gratify ambition; who for position, riches, and a great title barters herself in marriage.” She looked at him breathlessly. Anger turned her pale. She reached for the cord. “I think I had better let you alight so that you may go back to practise virtue and honour with your theatre wench.” “You shall not speak so of her, Aline.” “Faith, now we are to have heat on her behalf. You think I am too delicate? You think I should speak of her as a...” “If you must speak of her at all,” he interrupted, hotly, “you’ll speak of her as my wife.” Amazement smothered her anger. Her pallor deepened. “My God!” she said, and looked at him in horror. And in horror she asked him presently: “You are married--married to that--?” “Not yet. But I shall be, soon. And let me tell you that this girl whom you visit with your ignorant contempt is as good and pure as you are, Aline. She has wit and talent which have placed her where she is and shall carry her a deal farther. And she has the womanliness to be guided by natural instincts in the selection of her mate.” She was trembling with passion. She tugged the cord. “You will descend this instant!” she told him fiercely. “That you should dare to make a comparison between me and that...”