"He is fatigued, he has been riding since this morning." "Did he not lunch with you, cousin?" "No." "Why did he go away in such haste?" "You are too curious." Then, looking hard at her, "Perhaps he thought, like the good Duchess, that your weakness was serious, and that all his little arrangements were going to fall through." "I understand that the Duchess cared, since the election of her son is at stake, but the Duke, how would it affect him?" Albert sitting opposite her in the carriage, looked her full in the face. "Perhaps he will never find another opportunity to pay his court to you." "Whew, that is straightforward bluntness for you!" thought Maurice. Esperance grew red. The recollection of what had happened began to come back little by little. She closed her eyes to be able to think more clearly. Albert left her in her silence a minute, then he said, "We had planned to carry you away to-day, but you heard what the Duchess said just now. I feel bound by the confidence of that old friend to remain. My fate is in your pretty hands. Be circumspect with the Duke. Frank, and loyal with your fiancé." And he took her hands, in a long kiss. The coachman was told to turn around, for it was getting late. The horses set off at a trot. Nothing more was said between them, about the Duke. After dinner, the Duke arose, and announced, "The fête will be the day after to-morrow. We have only rehearsed once, and then, not in full. I feel somewhat responsible for the exhaustion of our little star. Her head, hanging down, was so beautiful, that I thought only of the pose, without realizing how painful it must have become to the artist. I ask Mile. Darbois' pardon. Also, I should like another stage director. I propose M. Maurice Renaud, our ingenious collaborator, to whom we owe our magnificent costumes, and originality of our decorations." Everyone applauded, and Maurice was proclaimed director of the fête. "I thank you, and accept", he said simply. He thought, "That is his way of getting rid of me." "I hope, my dear Director," continued the Duke, "that you will make us rehearse hard to-morrow. If anything goes wrong we shall still have the morning of the following day, for the fête does not begin until half-past two." Maurice rose, and in a comical tone announced, "Ladies, gentlemen, and artists, I beg you to be prompt for a rehearsal of the tableaux vivants to-morrow at ten o'clock. Any artist who is late, will pay a fine of a hundred francs, to the poor of the Duchess." And as they laughingly protested, "There is a quarter of an hour's grace accorded as in the theatres, but not one instant more. My stage-manager is empowered to collect the fines." They followed the action of the Duchess and rose from their seats. The Duke went over to Maurice. "I would like to talk over some of the details with you. They must interest us, but they mean nothing to the others. A cigarette?"