geoisie. In short, Madame la baronne, I should endeavor to show that since the age is evidently progressing, it is our duty to keep pace with it, or we must be left behind to be crushed on the way. It is melancholy to think of it; but still we must have the courage to recognize and act upon the fact. The Gauls have won the ascendancy, and the Franks have hope of safety only on the condition that they ally themselves to their new conquerors, and recruit from their ranks."

Here Madame de Vaubert, who from the commencement of this brief discourse had been gradually turning towards the speaker, leaned her elbow upon the arm of the chair in which she was sitting, and appeared to listen with curious attention.

6

"Would you know, Madame la baronne," continued M. de la Seigliére, rejoiced at the evidence that he was now master of his auditory, "would you know what the celebrated Des Tournelles, one of the most comprehensive and enlightened minds of the present epoch, said to me not long since? Monsieur le Marquis,' said that great jurist to me, these are serious times; we must adopt the people that they may adopt us; we must descend to them that they may ascend to us. It is at the present time with the noblesse as with the precious metals; they want solidifying; they want a grain of alloy.' A thought so profound that it at first almost bewildered me; but after a thorough consideration of the matter, I am satisfied that there is truth at the bottom,-a cruel truth I agree. But it were far better for us, at the expense of some concession, thus to make sure of a prosperous future, than to lie down and be buried in the shroud of a past which will never return. Yes! ventresaint-gris!" cried he, suddenly rising from his seat and striding across the room, "they have for a long time represented us, to the view of the country, as an incorrigible caste, rejecting from among us all that is not part and parcel of us, infatuated with our titles, learning nothing, and forgetting nothing, filled with pride and insolence, and deadly hostile to all equality. The time has come to put an end to these base calumnies, these foolish accusations. We must mingle in the crowd; open to them our doors, and let our enemies learn

Hereupon M. de La Seigliére, frightened at his own audacity, looked timidly towards Madame de Vaubert, and very much like a man, who, after having touched the train which leads to the mine, finds his retreat cut off, and is momentarily expecting a fragment of the rock against his own head. But it happened quite the contrary. The baroness, who had so poor an opinion of her old friend as not to doubt his sincerity, was besides too much occupied with herself to suspect that, just at that time, there could exist in this lower world any other self than herself, or any other interest than her interest. Without even thinking to inquire whence came such new and incongruous notions, Madame de Vaubert saw at a glance one thing, and one only-that M. de La Seigliére had half opened a door by which Raoul might escape from his engagement if it should be thought best.

แ Marquis," cried she, with a liveliness full of urbanity, "Your observations are very sensible, and although I have never doubted your excellent judgment, although I have always suspected that underneath this outward appearance of frivolity there was a serious and reflective mind, still, I must confess that I am as much surprised as charmed to find you entertaining an order of ideas so elevated and judicious. I make you my compliments."

The Marquis raised his head, and looked at the baroness with the air of a man who had just received in his face a handful of roses, instead of a charge of grape, as he had expected. Too selfish, also, on his part, to care for any thing apart from himself, far from thinking to account for this unexpected acquiescence of the baroness, he thought only to enjoy it.

"It is very much so with all of us," replied the Marquis good humoredly, stroking his chin with charming simplicity. "Because something of grace and elegance have fallen to our lot, pedants and schoolmasters console themselves for their inferiority in point of manners and appearance, by charging us with a lack of intellect. When we shall deign to mingle with them, we will prove that we are equally superior to them on other fields, and that we can handle speech and thought as once we handled the sword and the lance."

which the Marquis was directing his bark. "Is it possible that this old fox of a Marquis is deceiving me? Overwhelmed, as he has been, with favors at my hands, it would, indeed, be too infamous! Certainly, Marquis, it would cost me much to break such delightful bonds," she replied, "still, if your interest demands it, I would sacrifice, for your sake, the sweetest dream of my whole life."

"The thing is done," thought the Marquis, "and I am beat; but it is all the same. Only, was I to expect such perfidy in a friend of thirty years? Talk no more of the disinterested affection and gratitude of women! Baroness," continued he, with a dolorous show of resignation, "if I were compelled to renounce forever the hope that these two lovely children would one day be united, I could not endure it; the very thought of it breaks my heart. Nevertheless, out of consideration for you, my noble friend, and for the sake of your dear son, there is no sacrifice to which my devotion is not equal."

Madame de Vaubert suppressed her rage. After a moment of silence, during which her fury struggled wildly for the mastery, fixing her flashing eye upon the old gentleman

"Marquis," said she, "look me in the

face."

At the time in which these words were uttered, like a hare hopping in the bushes, and which suddenly discovers the hunter, with his gun levelled not ten paces off, the Marquis started, and regarded Madame de Vaubert with a wavering look.

"Marquis, you are a cheat."
"Madame la baronne".
"You are a traitor."
"Ventre-saint-gris, Madame !"
"You are an ingrate."

M. de La Seigliére was frightened and dumb with amazement. After having enjoyed his fright for a few moments—

"I pity you," at length resumed Madame de Vaubert; "I am going to spare you the humiliation of an avowal which could not make without falling in shame, at my feet. You have resolved to marry

your daughter to Bernard."

"Madame"

you

"You have resolved to marry your daughter to Bernard," authoritatively repeated Madame de Vaubert. "I discov

ered the resolution in its germ, and have watched its growth, fed, as it has been, by your selfishness. For nearly a month, unknown to you, have I been aware of the change which you were undergoing. How could you think of deceiving me with your feeble disguises? Did you not know that in such a game you would certainly be the loser? The first word which escaped you this evening betrayed you. A month ago I detected you, and saw whither you were tending, and have since closely watched you. You know that I have been to you kinder and more generous than Ariadne, who, at least, was not abandoned without some return for her kindness. Without my aid you could never have escaped from the labyrinth of difficulties which your own folly had brought upon you. Thus, Monsieur le Marquis, while I was exhausting all the resources of my mind, which you know would spurn obliquity of whatever kind, in contrivances of every sort in your behalf; while in the promotion of your interests I was sacrificing my tastes, my feelings, even the uprightness of my character, you, in utter disregard of your plighted faith, were plotting against me the blackest of perfidies; you were conspiring to deliver to your enemy the bethrothed of my son, and the place which I defended; you were seriously meditating upon striking the champion, who was contending for you, a cruel and remediless blow!"

"You go too far, Madame la baronne," replied the Marquis, with the confusion of an angler caught in his own net. “ I have come to no resolution; I have decided upon nothing; though, I admit, that since I became convinced that the good Stamply's benefaction was not a restitution but a gratuity, I felt myself bowed down under the weight of gratitude, and as, night and day, I bethought myself how we could acquit ourselves toward that noble and generous old man, it is very possible that the thought may have"

me that you are indebted for all you have and are. But for my exertions, your old farmer would have died without troubling himself to know if you were in existence. But for me, you and your daughter would have yet been shivering by the corner of your scanty fire-side in Germany. Without my assistance, you would never have again set foot in the castle of your ancestors. You know all this very well, but you feign not to be aware of it; and it is because of your ingratitude. No; your difficulty is not gratitude, but selfishness. To marry your daughter to the son of your late farmer, is your chief and the purpose, secret of your trouble. It wears upon and harasses you. You hate the people; you execrate Bernard; you comprehend and have comprehended nothing of what was going on about you. You are prouder, haughtier, more obstinate, more inaccessible, more exclusive, and, in a word, more incorrigible than any Marquis of song, vaudeville, or comedy. And your selfishness is even greater than your pride."

"Well! ventre-saint-gris! think what you please," cried the Marquis, with the resignation of despair. "There is one thing that I do know, and that is that I am tired of the part which you have made me play. I have been a long while indignant at such low wiles and base mancuvres, and I am determined to have done with them at all hazards. By heavens! You have said it; my daughter shall marry Bernard!"

Careful! Marquis, careful!"

"Pour out the vials of your wrath and contempt; call me a cheat and an ingrate; charge me with selfishness and treachery; -do all these if you please; you have a right to do so. You are so disinterested, Madame, in all this affair! You have shown yourself so frank and open-hearted! You were so kind to poor old Stamply in his last days! You discovered towards him so much tenderness, and showed him so much attention! And so you were bound in conscience to do; for it was at your instigation that during his lifetime he deprived himself of all means of procuring the kind attentions of others."

"It was for your benefit, cruel man!" benefit! for my benefit!" re

"For

my

iterated the Marquis with a shake of the head, "Madame la baronne don't make yourself ridiculous by talking such stuff!"

"It ill becomes you to accuse me of ingratitude," continued Madame de Vaubert, "you, the donee, who have overwhelmed your benefactor with bitterness." "I knew nothing of it; but you who knew all had no pity."

"It is you," cried the baroness, "who drove your benefactor from your table and fireside!"

"It is you," returned the Marquis, "who after having meanly won the confidence of a credulous and defenceless old man, spurned him from you, and left him to die with chagrin."

"You banished him to his secluded chamber!"

"You hurried him to his tomb!"
"This is war, Marquis!"

"Well, war it is, then!" shouted the Marquis, "I will fight once at least before I die."

"Think of it, Marquis! Pitiless, merciless war! War without truce !"

"War to the death! Madame la baronne," said the Marquis, with a very complaisant bow.

Hereupon Madame de Vaubert withdrew, threatening and terrible, while the Marquis was skipping for joy like a kid, alone in the room. On her return to the manor, after having paced her chamber for some time, knocking her forehead and pressing her bosom with rage, she abruptly opened the window, and like a cat watching for an opportunity to pounce upon a mouse, fell to gazing upon the opposite chateau de La Seigliére, whose windows were at this instant beaming in the clear light of the moon. In spite of the coolness of the air, she remained nearly an hour leaning over the balcony in mute contemplation. Suddenly her countenance lighted up, her eyes kindled, and like Ajax threatening the gods, throwing a gesture of defiance towards the castle, she exclaimed; "I will have it." She immediately returned to her chamber, and penned this single word to Raoul-" Return." She then retired, and fell asleep with that smile upon her lips which the genius of evil wears when resolved upon the destruction of a soul.