“Then you shall have the honor without crossing swords for it,” replied the lady. “Come and fetch me to-morrow evening at eight o’clock; unless you are equal to undergoing a _diner de ménage_ with myself and M. de Beaucœur, and in that case come at half-past six.” “Madame! Such kindness overwhelms me!” Madame de Beaucœur said _au revoir_ to the heiress and her mother, kissed hand to Berthe in the inner _salon_, and, granting M. de Chassedot’s request to be allowed to see her to her carriage, they left the room together. “Who is that young lady who was sitting beside you, madame?” he asked with some curiosity, when they were out of ear-shot on the staircase. “Mademoiselle de Galliac. Did you never see her before?” “Yes; but I did not know her name.” “I ought to have presented you. How stupid of me! She is a nice girl to talk to.” “_A l’honneur, madame!_ to-morrow evening!” And the carriage rolled off, leaving M. de Chassedot bowing on the sidewalk. Punctual to the minute, he presented himself in Madame de Beaucœur’s drawing-room as the clock was chiming the half-hour. Monsieur de Beaucœur had, of course, an appointment at the club, which to his infinite regret prevented his accompanying his wife to the Concert Musard, so he remained sipping his _café noir_, and they set out alone. The gardens, though only beginning to fill, presented a brilliant, animated appearance. The central pavilion, its roof and pillars girded with light, glowed like the starry temple of an Arabian tale, while from within the orchestra sent forth its melodic stream, now tender and plaintive as the zephyr wooing the rose at midnight, now loud and valiant in the rhythmic dance; balls of light came glistening through the foliage, making the trees stand out in radiant illumination. But, artistically mindful of the worth of contrast in scenic effect, the light distributed itself so as to leave certain parts of the garden in comparative shade. There, those who shrank from the dazzling glare of the centre could walk and enjoy the scene and the music without inconvenience. “Why, there is Madame de Galliac, I declare! Let us go and meet her!” said Madame de Beaucœur in delighted surprise, and they walked on quickly. “What an unexpected pleasure, madame! I thought you were going to the opera to-night?” “So we intended; but there was some mistake about the box; we only found it out at the last moment, and Henriette was so disappointed that, to comfort her, I proposed coming here for an hour,” exclaimed Madame de Galliac. “Poor child! But I assure you the music here is no despicable compensation. Let us go round by the left; the breeze is blowing from that point,” said Madame Beaucœur, and, without taking the slightest notice of Monsieur de Chassedot, she turned to walked on with Madame de Galliac. “Madame!” whispered the young man, touching her lightly on the arm, and by a sign intimating that she had left him standing out in the cold.