“I sent him word you were out, and told him it was impossible to accept his kind offer. Of course I made the refusal in as agreeable words as possible.” “Did you tell him I had gone to Nassau Street?” “I forget--I suppose I did. It was Kouba who opened the door. Kouba would be sure to tell him.” Then Sappha went to her room, packed the clothing she desired, and sent it to Nassau Street by Kouba. On being questioned, he could not remember whether he had told Mr. Murray to go to Nassau Street or not--thought maybe he had. “Master Murray mighty dissatisfied like,” he added, and then he looked curiously in Sappha’s face. “You are to take this parcel to Nassau Street, Kouba; and when you come back here you will find a letter for Mr. Murray on the piano; you will then go and find Mr. Murray, and give him the letter.” The writing of this letter was a difficult task to Sappha. She felt the cruelty of Leonard’s position very much--his offer to her family had been early and most generous; yet it was impossible for her father and mother to accept it, and equally impossible for her to accept it alone. The disappointment to his own plans Leonard would doubtless take as cheerfully as possible; but what would he say to her going with Achille? For he might not see Madame Bloommaert’s claim on her granddaughter in the light of an affectionate command and compliance; and then he would be jealous again--and then--and then? Sappha felt bewildered, until she recollected Annette’s engagement. That circumstance would certainly define Achille’s position and prevent any ill-will. “And I told him in my letter about it, so then it is all right.” Thus she reasoned herself into a satisfied mood; and when she returned to her grandmother’s and cousin’s company she could not help catching the joyous expectancy of the situation. And very soon Achille came in, and it was prettily amusing to watch the behaviour of the newly betrothed. It seemed as if they now found all the world a delightful mystery, a secret between themselves only. Such reliance, such hope, such expectation, had suddenly sprung up between them that there was a constant necessity for little confidences and unshared understandings. However, nothing could be more beautiful than the manner in which Achille treated madame. He consulted her about all the evening’s arrangements, and gave her an affection and respect, which she returned with that charming kindness that is the innocent coquetry of old age. It was finally agreed that Achille should come for them soon after five o’clock. The usual hour for opening the theatre was six, but Achille said the crowd on the streets was already very embarrassing and difficult to manage.