Several times, M. Raindal had to drag her away from her work at night. She always grumbled before she allowed herself to be persuaded. He chided her gently and took her arm to lead her to her bedroom. They walked together along the dark passage. Everything was quiet in the house. Sometimes they paused, smilingly listening to Mme. Raindal, whose snores reached them through the closed doors. Then M. Raindal kissed his daughter and retired, feeling his way about in the dark. "Poor girl!" he thought in mingled admiration and tenderness. Had he but known! Had he but guessed at the struggles and the anguish of her masculine soul! Had he but heard the "Poor Father!" with which his daughter expressed to herself pity for his lack of understanding!... The weeks passed rapidly and the day came at last when they were going to dine with the Chambannes. Shortly after seven, Thérèse was putting on the heavy dark coat she wore when she went out in evening dress, when she heard a sudden outburst of discussion in the hall and someone knocked at her door. "Come in!" she said. Her father entered in his shirt sleeves. His white tie hung unfastened over his waistcoat. "Do you know what is happening?" he exclaimed. "Your mother now thinks we have been too ready to accept this invitation of Mme. Chambannes; she says that we should have tried to find out more about her.... Find out!... Find out what, I ask you, and where?... All this because of a dinner that has no importance!... She wants us to put it off now, five minutes before we are due to leave the house. What can one do? I ask you! especially I fancy that you yourself did not take greatly to the lady?..." "Phew!" Thérèse said doubtfully. "You can guess where she gets such ideas," M. Raindal went on, as he paced the room. "She gets them from those fellows! From the vestry!... Oh, she didn't deny it long.... And I have warned her that the next time they have the audacity to...." He did not finish his sentence. Mme. Raindal entered the room, her corsage unfastened: "Hush!" she whispered. "Someone has rung the bell. Thérèse, go and open the door, dear! Brigitte has run down to get a cab." "Very well, mother." Thérèse went to open the door and was surprised to find her Uncle Cyprien, who was wiping his shoes on the yellow mat in the dark hall. "Good evening, nephew!" he exclaimed merrily. Then he noticed that Thérèse had her cloak on and wore white gloves. "Oh! you are going out! And I came to share your dinner.... What bad luck!" He walked in. Thérèse replied with constraint. They had said nothing to him about the Chambannes dinner party, for fear of his criticism. "Yes, uncle, we are dining out." Hearing his brother's voice, the master came out of the room. He exchanged the customary greetings and said, to fend off any query: "You are unlucky.... We are not dining here.... Can you come to-morrow?" "Of course!" replied Uncle Cyprien. After a pause he added: