fled from her presence, his heart tumultuously throbbing, and his brain on fire, leaving the princess with one hand raised, as though to bid him adieu.

Montalais was at no loss, therefore, to perceive the agitation of the two lovers — the one who fled was agitated, and the one who remained was equally so.

“Well,” murmured the young girl, as she glanced inquisitively round her, “this time, at least, I think I know as much as the most curious woman could possibly wish to know.” Madame felt so embarrassed by this inquisitorial look, that, as if she heard Montalais’s muttered side remark, she did not speak a word to her maid of honor, but, casting down her eyes, retired at once to her bedroom. Montalais, observing this, stood listening for a moment, and