Madame Agnes de la Mora sat placidly, her work basket by her side, busied about some lace she was mending. The Chevalier studied a number of military maps of Louisiana at his table. It was a pretty picture of domestic harmony, then quite unfashionable at Sceaux. A timid rap at the door, and a voice: "Sister, may I come in?" "Yes, child," and her sister Charlotte slipped silently in and sat herself upon the floor at Madame's feet. There was a striking similarity between the two. Madame, for all her dignified title, being but a year the elder, and she scant of twenty. Charlotte, somewhat slighter and more delicately colored, was even of greater beauty than her sister, with much promise for the years to come. To the casual observer, though, especially when viewed apart, they seemed almost reflections one of the other. There was something of a loving guardianship in the attitude of the elder, of confiding trust in that of the younger, as she leaned her head upon her sister's knee in pensive meditation. "Sister, I must tell you of something; I know not that I did well or ill," and she lifted her face with a surety of sympathy. "What is it, dear, what weighty matter troubles you now?" The Chevalier looked up long enough to say: "Have you torn your frock, or only quarreled again with the good Abbe over your task?" The girl very evidently had nothing to fear from his harshness. "No! No! Don't tease; it's really important. This day at noon Madame Chartrain was in her chamber--you know the young man who came with M. Jerome?" de la Mora nodded. "The same I ran into at the door?" and she flushed again at the memory of our discomfiture. "Well, to-day noon at Madam Chartrain's I heard that danger threatened him concerning some papers or something which he has--and Madame du Maine, too, they mean him harm; and--and--well, I told him. Did I do ill, sister?" "What is that, Charlotte? Come here." She crossed the room obediently and stood before him. The Chevalier asked: "How did it happen, child? Tell me all about it, where you saw him, who was there, and all." So she went on to tell of her seeking me in the park, and her hurried warning. "Well, what did he say to all that?" "He didn't say anything; I gave him no chance; I just ran up near him and told him as quick as ever I could that he had better go off somewhere, and then--and then--well, I just ran away again. He looked so startled and surprised he could not say anything. When I turned again to peep through the hedge he was still standing there with his hands stretched out as if he would have liked to stop me, but I was already gone." The girl laughed a short little laugh and tucked her hand closer into his. "Did I do wrong, Charles? Tell me, was it so very, very--bold?" The Chevalier could not quite suppress the smile already twitching at his lips, though he soon looked grave enough.