"Yours!" they shouted to him. But he lost the ball. And the young girl, sure of her power, let him lose the game without a murmur. "Already!" thought Elizabeth, as she walked along the chestnut path which took her back to her solitude. How soon one was forgotten! What lies, these love vows! It only needed a smile revealing gleaming teeth, a fresh skin, a movement of the hips to substitute a new desire for the most exalted emotion. But perhaps she was not one of those who inspire lasting passions. Perhaps she left only a fleeting impression, soon to vanish, as she had sometimes heard it said of certain women with pure impassive features. This little wound to her self-love she added to that from which she was suffering, and which would never be healed. A few days later, invited to dinner at Mélèzes with some other people, she found herself placed at table next to Philippe Lagier, who had Mlle. Rivière as his dinner partner. Would she take advantage of this? The barrister turned toward her, and to keep her attention, made use of all the resources of a mind trained to please. He understood perfectly the art of conversation which lends color and picturesqueness to all subjects, and which seems to imply a flattering sympathy. The glare of the lights, the bright dresses, the bare shoulders, the air warm, but invigorating, which came in through the open window, contributed to a harmony in which life unfolds itself in an atmosphere of joy. She was listening to Philippe, whose intelligent features were unattractive only when in repose. Near him, she gave no further thought to the scene which had separated them. Soothed, forgetting her trouble, happy, she was enjoying her success. All at once, raising her head, she saw fixed upon her the gaze of Mlle. Rivière. It was a look of distress, expressing not hatred, but despair and admiration. It said so clearly, "You are too beautiful. I know well that I cannot struggle against you--have pity!"--that she was upset by it, because it made her think of herself. Thus for a few minutes she had fully enjoyed her power over a man whose dead or dying passion for her, self-love induced her to revive; and at the same time, she had felt herself to be mastered by the conversation of this man whose subtle meaning she still feared. In addition she had unscrupulously risked breaking another heart. She was ashamed of her vanity, and particularly of her weakness for which she reproached herself as a traitor. Turning from Philippe, she gave him back to Mlle. Rivière, but he had lost his high spirits. At the end of the evening, she refused his offer to escort her home to Saint Martin. On the road at night, as she passed the place where the year before she had rebelled so violently, her new conduct seemed incomprehensible and the humiliation she felt in her own estimation, aroused in her a greater indulgence toward the faults of others, and at the same time a resolution to watch herself more closely. V A GHOST