Laurent was very sincere. When he lied, he was the first person deceived. He deemed himself strong enough to face that delicate situation, and it was his straightforward, generous purpose to restore Palmer's former confidence. Unluckily, when the human mind, borne onward by vigorous aspirations, has climbed certain lofty summits, if it is attacked with vertigo, it does not descend gradually, but plunges recklessly down. That is what happened to Palmer. Although the most noble-hearted and loyal of men, he had aspired to control the emotions aroused by a too delicate situation. His strength had betrayed him; who could blame him for it? And he plunged into the abyss, dragging Thérèse and Laurent himself with him. Who would not pity them--all three? All three had dreamed of scaling heaven and of reaching those serene regions where passions have naught of earthliness; but it is not given to man to reach that height; it is much for him to deem himself for an instant capable of loving without doubt or distrust. The dinner was mortally dismal; although Palmer, who had assumed the rôle of host, made it a point to set before his guests the daintiest dishes and choicest wines, everything had a bitter taste to them, and Laurent, after vain efforts to recover the frame of mind which he had found so delightful during his relations with those two at Florence immediately after his illness, refused to accompany them to the Bois de Boulogne. Palmer, who had drunk a trifle more than usual in order to forget himself, insisted in a way that annoyed Thérèse. "Come, come," she said, "don't be so persistent. Laurent is right to refuse; in the Bois de Boulogne, in your open carriage, we shall be very conspicuous, and we may meet people whom we know. We can't expect them to know what an exceptional position we three occupy with respect to each other; and they may well draw some very unpleasant conclusions regarding all of us." "Very well, then let us return to your house," said Palmer; "then I will go and take a walk alone; I need a bit of fresh air." Laurent made his escape when he saw that Palmer had determined to leave him alone with Thérèse, apparently for the purpose of watching them or surprising them. He returned to his own quarters very much depressed, saying to himself that perhaps Thérèse was not happy, and involuntarily deriving some satisfaction from the thought that Palmer was not superior to the weakness of human nature, as he had imagined, and as Thérèse had represented him in her letters. We will pass rapidly over the ensuing week, a week during which the heroic romance of which the three ill-fated friends had dreamed more or less vividly, faded from hour to hour. Thérèse clung to her illusions more persistently than the others, because, after such far-seeing apprehensions and precautions, she had determined that she would risk her whole life, and that however unjust Palmer might be, she ought to, and would, keep her word to him.