"You swear you are not deceiving me, madame?" sternly.
"I swear by all the saints," fervently.
"Then I must search farther for my missing friend," he said, sadly, as he turned to go.
She caught his arm eagerly.
"Now tell me what you have done with the little baggage who has caused all this trouble? By Heaven, Carmontelle, if harm come to my little daughter through you, I will hold you to account!"
"Daughter!" he echoed, bewilderly, and she answered, dauntlessly:
"Yes, my daughter. The secret is out at last, the secret of my shame! She was born before I met Lorraine. Her father was—well, no matter who, since he was a villain. Well, I put the child out to nurse, and made an honest marriage. Then the woman followed me with the child, and I had to invent a story to account for her to Lorraine. Now I am free to claim her, and you see that the law will support me in demanding her restoration to my care!"
They stood looking at each other silently a moment, then Carmontelle answered, angrily:
"Madame, I do not believe you. This is only one of a dozen different stories you have told to account for the possession of that child. Your last claim is made in order to support a claim for her return to you. The pretext will not avail you. The little ma'amselle is in safe hands, where she shall remain until she is trained and educated up to the standard necessary for my wife."
"Your wife?" she gasped, white with jealous fury.