And she closed her eyes, afraid of giving herself away. Once more in the air and she began to feel better. She breathed the little flask of ether that the Doctor held under her nose. "This poor heart is always making scenes. Ah! dear Count, you will have to set that in order." The Duke had moved away. Annoyed by the insistence of the public, he told Jean Perliez to announce that Mlle. Darbois needed a little rest, and presented her compliments to the audience and excused herself from replying to the encoring. This was a real disappointment. There had been such enthusiasm for the two fiancés, an enthusiasm well-earned by the inspired execution of "Orpheus," that the attitude of this elite audience was a little indifferent to the artists who concluded the concert. The hall was half empty and several artists were too offended to appear. Esperance went to her room with her mother and Genevieve, begging the Count to return to his mother. "Your mother will be anxious, and my father can not reassure her, because he does not himself know the symptoms of this slight illness. Tell them that I will rest for a quarter of an hour and then join you at my flower booth." When she was left alone with Genevieve she drew her friend to her. "My dear little sister, I cannot tell you the joy that pervades every part of my being. In an hour it will be over! My father will talk with Albert and I shall be free! free!" "Poor boy," sighed Genevieve. "Oh! yes, I am ungrateful to his great devotion, but I should be false to myself and to you, Genevieve, if I told you that the idea of his despair greatly troubles me. I know that every one about me regrets the breaking off of this marriage, and still I don't care. You all admire the Duke, but you blame him a little. I know that, but that is all submerged and forgotten in my great love. When I reason as I do now, I recognize at once the horrible storm I am causing, and yet I cannot feel sad. I find all sorts of excuses for myself, and cast back all the responsibility on Fate." She was silent an instant. "Do you think it will take vengeance?" Mlle. Frahender came in. "What will take vengeance?" "Fate." "My dear child, what is called Fate is simply the law of God." "Then if God is just he will not avenge himself, for what has happened is not my fault." The old lady looked at the young girl very tenderly. "My dear child, do not get into the habit of throwing the responsibility of your actions upon others. Certainly we are not responsible for events, but we can almost always choose the way to meet them. Only, some flatter their passions and refuse to assert themselves against them! This weakness opens the door to all other concessions, and then it becomes difficult to make a loyal examination of our conscience." "Is that my case?" asked the young girl with some anxiety. "Perhaps," replied Mlle. Frahender, frankly.