On the day after the return from Paris Gabrielle remained in seclusion, making no sign, while the others waited with more or less impatience to see if she would throw down the gauntlet. Aglaé could scarce conceal her satisfaction at the warmness of her dear friend's greeting. Clovis was genuinely delighted to see her and made no secret of his joy, whereat the abbé was annoyed, though he knew better than to betray the feeling. Time had not loosed the bonds wherein the marquis was held by his affinity. On the contrary, absence had in his case made the heart grow fonder, for he seemed now to have quite forgotten the fear with which former admiration had been mingled. It was rather hard, the abbé could not help considering, that his own influence, for which he had laboured with such patience and dexterity, should pale so easily before that of this lady, who for twelve months had made no move. By summoning her to his aid, had he raised up a spirit which by and by he would be powerless to lay? No. For the attainment of an object that was now clearly modelled before his sight, the assistance of Mademoiselle Brunelle was absolutely necessary. The object attained, he would steal a march on her, and on his brothers as well, if need were. Meanwhile, it was of the best augury that the chatelaine should remain quiescent. It has been said that the woman who hesitates is lost. Certain it is that one of the nature of the marquise--of the class who seem specially made to endure slings and arrows--does not gain strength by delay. She can in a moment of impulse perform an act of energy; but if she waits and broods her strength exhales itself in moans. The marquis and his friend got out their books, made a grand parade of being vastly busy--even dug out the blessed 'cello and groaned out an affecting fugue; but expecting you know not what it is impossible to keep the mind from wandering, and Aglaé, try as she would to command herself, jumped up at intervals and strode the polished floor with statuesque arms crossed over the ample bosom, longing for something to occur. "No news is good news, believe me," the abbé whispered in caution, as hour succeeded hour, and their patience began to ooze. "If she accepts her position without a struggle, a most important point is gained." Aglaé sniffed fretfully, and passed her square-tipped fingers through the masses of her blue-black hair. "That is mighty well," she said, tartly; "but for the creature to take me back again so quietly, after all that passed, makes me long to pinch, and beat, and slap anything so deplorably spiritless. If she does not do something to-morrow, you will have to lock me up, for I shall not be able to prevent myself from rushing into her room and banging her head against the wall."