“ You thought that you deceived me yester day,” she continued, lowering her tone, but with no lessening of the passion, the con tempt, the imli.-.n ttion, whi.-h mu led her lip and gave fulness to her v..i e. “ ion plotter ! You surface tricßster ! \ou thought it an easy task to delude a woman— you find yourself deluded. God give you ohatne that you may suffer!” she continued mercilessly. “ You talked of Cion, but Cion beside you is the most honourable of men ?” “ Madame,” I said hoarsely—and I know that my face was grey as ashes—“ let. us understand one another.” “ God forbid !” she cried on the instant. “ I would not soil myself !” “ Fie ! madame,” I said, trembling. “ But, ihen, you are a woman. That would cost a man his life.”

She laughed bitterley. “ You say well,” she retorted. “I am not a man—and if you are one, thank God for it. Neither am I madame, Madame de Coche foret has spent this afternoon, thanks to your abscence and your imbecility, her husband. Yes, I hope that hurts you ! she went on, savagely snapping her little white teeth together. “ I hope that stings you—to spy and do vile work, and do it ill—Monsieur Moucbard—Monsieur de Mouchard, (Mr Spy) I should say. I congratulate you !” “You are not Madame de Cocheforet? i cried, stunned, even in the midst of my shame and rage, by this blow. T “ No, monsieur !” she answered grimly. _ 1 am not! lam not. And permit me to point out —for we do not all lie easily—that I never said I was. You deceived yourself so skil fully that we bad no need to trick you.”

“ Mademoiselle, then ?” I muttered. “Is madame !” she cried. “ Yes, and lam Mademoiselle de Cocheforet. And in that character and in all others I beg from this moment to close your acquaintance, sir. When wo meet again—if we ever do meet, which God forbid,” she went on, her eyes sparkling—“do not presume to speak to mo, °\ I l vill llave 7 0U flowed by the grooms. And do not stain our roof by sleeping under it again. You may lie to-night in the inn. 