‘I am a passionate man--I have an uncontrollable temper, but I am not slow to say I am wrong--forgive me, my Madeline, I have wronged you.’ As he spoke he stretched forth both his hands, but she instinctively shrank away. It was well that she could not see the expression of his face as she did so. He bowed before her, and spoke again. ‘_Eh bien!_’ he said softly--so softly, so meltingly, she could hardly bring herself to believe it to be the same man who had insulted her a little before. ‘_Eh bien_, I deserve that you should shrink from me, but now I will make amends for my brutal conduct, and you shall try to forget, _chérie_.’ If Madeline had been herself she might have remembered that it was in this very guise of humility that Monsieur Belleisle came to her when he had determined upon doing her the greatest wrong which she had ever received in her life; but she was a mere child, and did not remember; the agonising hours spent in the hotel at Fécamp were for the moment forgotten, and the Frenchman spoke on. Ah, yes, his offence had been great; but he determined to make full reparation. He admitted that he was sorry to find that he had wed a penniless wife, but his sorrow was gone, his anger overcome; he declared now that his wife possessed attributes which money could not buy, and the want of money, save that it might deprive _her_ of certain luxuries, troubled him not at all. This, then, was his purposed reparation, that Madeline should go to her room and spend the day in resting; that, subsequently, she should array herself in evening costume and accompany her Emile to a pleasant dinner, and go to a place of entertainment afterwards. Poor Madeline looked at the man in stupefied amazement. Whether or not he was straightforward and honest she could not tell, nor did she pause to inquire; she gave a trembling consent to all his wishes, and passed alone up to her room. How quiet it was there! What a blessed relief from the presence of her tormentor. She poured some eau de Cologne on her forehead, threw herself on the cool white bed, and closed her aching eyes. How long she lay thus she did not know; the next thing she was conscious of was a knock at the door--then a maid entered, hearing some biscuits and a glass of wine. She informed Madeline that Monsieur had sent this refreshment to Madame, as he feared that the long day’s fast would make her faint for the evening; she bore also, from Monsieur, a small three-cornered note, which Madeline laid aside until the girl had quitted the room, when she proceeded to acquaint herself with the contents.