"Oh, yes. I am stifling here. I never was at such a dull ball. Pray, pray take me home!"
Her aunt could not refuse a request so vehemently urged, and begged M. de Bois to seek Maurice. Fearing that Madame de Tremazan would be mortified by their early departure, the countess took an opportunity to leave the ballroom, accompanied by her niece and son, without attracting the observation of the hostess. M. de Bois joined them in the antechamber, with the intelligence that Maurice was nowhere to be found. After a second search, and half an hour's delay, the carriage started without him.
As soon as they reached the château, Bertha bade her aunt good-night, and hastened to Madeleine's chamber. Madeleine, who did not anticipate her speedy return, and had not heard her light foot upon the floor, was sitting beside a small table, her head supported by her hands, and bent over some object which she contemplated with intense interest. At the sound of Bertha's voice she hastily closed the lids of a couple of ancient-looking caskets, which stood before her, and rose from her seat.
"Is it you, Bertha? How soon you have returned!"
"Yes; I was glad to get away. The ball was wretchedly stupid; and, after that disagreeable Lady Vivian irritated me by talking of you, I could not stay. She seemed to have the audacity to expect that you would become her humble companion. You! our noble, doubly noble Madeleine, the humble companion of any one, but especially of such a coarse person as Lady Vivian! It was unendurable."
"It is very possible that Count Damoreau assured her I would accept the proposition she made me through him," was Madeleine's calm reply.
"But you never could have entertained it for a moment?"
"No. There is the answer I have just written to Count Damoreau. You may read it."
Bertha glanced over the letter approvingly. As she laid it upon the table, she noticed the caskets.