"May I go and see her to-morrow, sweet Celeste?"
"Certainly you may. We will both be very glad to see you," answered Celeste, delightedly.
"She is certainly a paragon of simplicity. No woman of the world would say that," thought Louis, as he glanced at her eager, happy face.
An exclamation from Celeste attracted his attention. He looked up. Right before him stood Minnette, with her glittering black eyes fixed upon them with a look so fierce, so flamingly jealous, that he started back.
"Why, Minnette, what is the matter? Are you ill?" asked Celeste, in alarm.
She would have turned away without answering; but the dark eye of Louis was upon her, and she replied, coldly:
"I am perfectly well. Excuse me; I fear I have interrupted a pleasant tete-a-tete."
And, with one fierce, scorching glance at Celeste, she turned, and hurried away.
Celeste shuddered; something in the dark, passionate face of Minnette frightened her. Her companion perceived it—well he understood the cause; and with matchless tact he drew her mind from the subject to fix it on himself.
During the evening he devoted himself assiduously to Celeste. With her he danced; on his arm she leaned in the promenade; by his side she sat at table. Standing alone and neglected by herself, Minnette saw it all; and, had looks power to kill, those flaming glances of fire would have stricken her rival dead.