"Yes; you gave it to me," replied Lady Harton, quietly. "Semper--I beg your pardon, Madame, we Poles all speak Latin--Semper means 'Always!' It is a great word. On your wife's arm this bracelet will be well placed. Au revoir, dear Prince. I wish you every happiness." And bowing to Micheline with a regal bow, Lady Harton took the arm of a tall young man whom she had beckoned, and walked away. Micheline, amazed, looked at the bracelet sparkling on her white wrist. Without uttering a word Serge unfastened it, took it off his wife's arm, and advancing on the terrace, with a rapid movement flung it in the water. The bracelet gleamed in the night-air and made a brilliant splash; then the water resumed its tranquillity. Micheline, astonished, looked at Serge, who came toward her, and very humbly said: "I beg your pardon." The young wife did not answer, but her eyes filled with tears; a smile brightened her lips, and hurriedly taking his arm, she led him into the drawing-room. Dancing was going on there. The young ladies of Pontoise, and the cream of Creil, had come to the fete, bent on not losing such an opportunity of enjoying themselves. Under the watchful eyes of their mothers, who, decked out in grand array, were seated along the walls, they were gamboling, in spite of the stifling heat, with all the impetuosity of young provincials habitually deprived of the pleasures of the ballroom. Crossing the room, Micheline and Serge reached Madame Desvarennes's boudoir. It was delightfully cool in there. Cayrol had taken refuge there with Jeanne, and Mademoiselle Susanne Herzog. This young girl felt uncomfortable at being a third party with the newly-married couple, and welcomed the arrival of the Prince and Micheline with pleasure. Her father had left her for a moment in Cayrol's care; but she had not seen him for more than an hour. "Mademoiselle," said the Prince, gayly, "a little while ago, when I was passing through the rooms, I heard these words: 'Loan, discount, liquidation.' Your father must have been there. Shall I go and seek him?" "I should be very grateful," said the young girl. "I will go." And turning lightly on his heels, happy to escape Jeanne's looks, Serge reentered the furnace. At once he saw Herzog seated in the corner of a bay-window with one of the principal stock-brokers of Paris. He was speaking. The Prince went straight up to him. "Sorry to draw you away from the sweets of conversation," said he, smiling; "but your daughter is waiting for you, and is anxious at your not coming." "Faith! My daughter, yes. I will come and see you tomorrow," said he to his companion. "We will talk over this association: there is much to be gained by it." The other, a man with a bloated face, and fair Dundreary whiskers, was eager to do business with him. Certainly the affair was good.