walked better as he leant on the arm of a
stately lady in black, looking haughtily round
on all about her. On the side was a young
girl, golden-haired and graceful, whom I
knew to be the future bride. I was all this
while leaning over the balustrade, looking
down into the court.

Presently, a very curious scene took place.
I had seen the gentleman of the yellow
moustaches, simpering to himself as though
much amused at what was going forward.
But, when the young man and the two ladies
had begun to ascoud the wooden staircase,
he threw away his cigar, and walked leisurely
down to meet them.

"Dearest brother," he said, withdrawing
one hand from his deep pockets, "soyez le
bienvenu! I am rejoiced to see you looking
so fresh and well. But the journey must have
fatigued you terribly!"

The tall lady's eyes flashed fire, and she
stepped forward in front of her son.

"Go away! Retirez-vous, infame!" she
said. "What do you do here?—how dare
you present yourself to us?"

"Sweet madame," he said, bowing low,
"accept my humble excuses; but I wish to
speak privately with my dear brother here,
who, by the way, seems to be getting all his
strength back again. I have waited here—
two whole days—looking forward to this
pleasure."

"Stand back quickly!" said the tall lady,
trembling with rage. "Will nobody take this
infame from our sight? Messieurs! messieurs!
I entreat you, make him withdraw!"

The men in blouses were gathering round
gradually—to whom our hostess was
vehemently unfolding the whole history, plainly
working on their feelings. It was held to be
a crying shame, and M. Le BÅ“uf was
proposing to interfere physically. But young
M. Lemoine gently drew his mother to one
side.

"Dearest mother," he said, "let us hear
what he has to say. He can do us no
harm."

"No, Dieu merci," she said, "we are
beyond his malice. But you must not speak
with him, my son."

All this while the gentleman with the saffron
moustaches had been leaning back against
the rail, surveying both with a quiet smile.

"Well, brother," he said, at last, "you see,
madame—gentle-minded, religious woman
that she is—wishes to inflame matters. Let
us finish with this child's work. I have
journeyed many leagues to speak with you,
and do you suppose I will let myself be
turned back by caprice of this sort! Give me
half an hour—but one half hour. She shall
be by all the while. Also mademoiselle, if
she have any fancy for it."

The young man looked round at the
haughty dame beside him.

"This seems only reasonable," he said;
''we had best hear what he has to say. Well,
brother, come to my room—to the golden
chamber, in an hour. But, mind, this shall be
the last time."

"With all my heart," said the other, bow-
ing profoundly. I shall trouble you no
further after that. Meanwhile, accept my
gratulations, Mademoiselle est vraiment
belle! Au revoir, then, in an hour."

He lifted his hat as they passed him, and
then walked down, unconcernedly, among
the blue-frocked bourgeoise of the court.

"Don't stop up the way, good people," he
said, coolly putting M. Le BÅ“uf aside, "it
hinders all comfort in walking:" then lighted
a cigar, and strode out carelessly upon the high
road.

The glass-doors of the golden chamber had
been thrown open, disclosing a pretty little
room adorned fancifully with mirrors and
light chintz hangings. Into this they entered,
the hostess leading the way, and bringing
forward an arm-chair into which M. Lemoine
dropped himself wearily. Madame was taking
counsel with Fanchonette, at the end of the
room (the chintz and Louis-quinze mirrors
were quite in keeping with the Lancry
figure), and, as the glass-doors shut-to gently,
I saw his cousin bending over him tenderly.
He looked up pleasantly into her face.

Within the hour's time, the great diligence
had departed, toppling fearfully as it passed
out under the archway; while the men in
blue—their day's work being ended—
dispersed and left the court quite bare and
empty. Soon after, the stranger came
sauntering in, his hands deeper in his pockets,
and well up to his time. At the foot of the
steps he stopped and called out loudly to
Fanchouette, "Go quickly, ma petite, and see
if it be their pleasure to receive me."

Soon returned Fanchonette, tripping lightly,
with word that they were already waiting for
monsieur, would he follow her.

"On, then, mignonne!" he exclaimed, and
walked up-stairs, round to the golden chamber,
entering boldly, and letting the glass-doors
swing-to with loud chatter behind him.

Madame, our hostess, reported to me
afterwards, that, as she was passing by
she heard strange tones, as of fierce and
angry quarrel—apparently the voices of
M. Lemoine's mother and the stranger.
She had often heard that there was some
ugly secret in the family—some skeleton-closet
as it were—which he, no doubt, was
threating to make known to the world. He
was lâche-lâche! madame said, several times,
with indignation. It was curious, too, how
the interest of that whole establishment
became concentrated on that one chamber. It
was known universally that there was some
mystery going on inside. Even Fanchonette
found occasion to pass that way now and then,
gleaning, no doubt, stray ends of discourse.
I, myself, felt irresistibly moved, to wander
round in that direction; but, for the sake of