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"She is somewhat - unwell," stammered Mme. Favoral.

He did not appear surprised; only,"Our dear Favoral," he said, "will be still more pained than I amwhen he hears of this mishap."Better than any other mother, Mme. Favoral must have understood andapproved Mlle. Gilberte's invincible repugnance. To her also, whenshe was young, her father had come one day, and said, "I havediscovered a husband for you." She had accepted him blindly. Bruisedand wounded by daily outrages, she had sought refuge in marriage asin a haven of safety.

And since, hardly a day had elapsed that she had not thought itwould have been better for her to have died rather then to haveriveted to her neck those fetters that death alone can remove. Shethought, therefore, that her daughter was perfectly right. And yettwenty years of slavery had so weakened the springs of her energy,that under the glance of Costeclar, threatening her with herhusband's name, she felt embarrassed, and could scarcely stammersome timid excuses. And she allowed him to prolong his visit, andconsequently her torment, for over an half an hour; then, when hehad gone,"He and your father understand each other," said she to her daughter,"that is but too evident. What is the use of struggling?"A fugitive blush colored the pale cheeks of Mlle. Gilberte. Forthe past forty-eight hours she had been exhausting herself, seekingan issue to an impossible situation; and she had accustomed her mindto the worst eventualities.

"Do you wish me, then, to desert the paternal roof?" she exclaimed.

Mme. Favoral almost dropped on the floor.

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"You would run away," she stammered, "you!""Rather than become that man's wife, yes!""And where would you go, unfortunate child? what would you do?""I can earn my living."Mme. Favoral shook her head sadly. The same suspicions were revivingwithin her that she had felt once before.

"Gilberte," she said in a beseeching tone, "am I, then, no longeryour best friend? and will you not tell me from what sources youdraw your courage and your resolution?"And, as her daughter said nothing:

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"God alone knows what may happen!" sighed the poor woman.

Nothing happened, but what could have been easily foreseen. WhenM. Favoral came home to dinner, he was whistling a perfect stormon the stairs. He abstained at first from all recrimination; buttowards the end of the meal, with the most sarcastic look he couldassume:

"It seems," he said to his daughter, "that you were unwell thisafternoon?"Bravely, and without flinching, she sustained his look; and, in afirm voice:

"I shall always be indisposed," she replied, "when M. Costeclarcalls. You hear me, don't you, father - always!"But the cashier of the Credit Mutual was not one of those men whosewrath finds vent in mere sarcasms. Rising suddenly to his feet:

"By the holy heavens!" he screamed forth, "you are wrong to triflethus with my will; for, all of you here, I shall crush you as I dothis glass."And, with a frenzied gesture, he dashed the glass he held in hishand against the wall, where it broke in a thousand pieces.

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Trembling like a leaf, Mme. Favoral staggered upon her chair.

  "Better kill her at once," said Mlle. Gilberte coldly. "She wouldsuffer less."It was by a torrent of invective that M. Favoral replied. His rage,dammed up for the past four days, finding at last an outlet, flowedin gross insults and insane threats. He spoke of throwing out inthe street his wife and children, or starving them out, or shuttingup his daughter in a house of correction; until at last, languagefailing his fury, beside himself, he left, swearing that he wouldbring M. Costeclar home himself, and then they would see.

"Very well, we shall see," said Mlle. Gilberte.

Motionless in his place, and white as a plaster cast, Maxence hadwitnessed this lamentable scene. A gleam of common-sense hadenabled him to control his indignation, and to remain silent. Hehad understood, that, at the first word, his father's fury wouldhave turned against him; and then what might have happened? Themost frightful dramas of the criminal courts have often had noother origin.

"No, this is no longer bearable!" he exclaimed.

Even at the time of his greatest follies, Maxence had always hadfor his sister a fraternal affection. He admired her from the dayshe had stood up before him to reproach him for his misconduct. Heenvied her her quiet determination, her patient tenacity, and thatcalm energy that never failed her.

"Have patience, my poor Gilberte," he added: "the day is not far,I hope, when I may commence to repay you all you have done for me.