“Kindly pass me some cake,” said Mademoiselle Aurelie to Helene, close to whom she happened to find herself.  “These sweetmeats are frauds!”

She had, however, already emptied two plates of them.  And she continued, with her mouth full: 

“Oh! some of the people are beginning to go now.  We shall be a little more comfortable.”

In truth, several ladies were now leaving, after shaking hands with Madame Deberle.  Many of the gentlemen had already wisely vanished, and the room was becoming less crowded.  Now came the opportunity for the remaining gentlemen to sit down at table in their turn.  Mademoiselle Aurelie, however, did not quit her place, though she would much have liked to secure a glass of punch.

“I will get you one,” said Helene, starting to her feet.

“No, no, thank you.  You must not inconvenience yourself so much.”

For a short time Helene had been watching Malignon.  He had just shaken hands with the doctor, and was now bidding farewell to Juliette at the doorway.  She had a lustrous face and sparkling eyes, and by her complacent smile it might have been imagined that she was receiving some commonplace compliments on the evening’s success.  While Pierre was pouring out the punch at a sideboard near the door, Helene stepped forward in such wise as to be hidden from view by the curtain, which had been drawn back.  She listened.

[Illustration:  Malignon appoints a Rendezvous with Juliette]

“I beseech you,” Malignon was saying, “come the day after to-morrow.  I shall wait for you till three o’clock.”

“Why cannot you talk seriously,” replied Madame Deberle, with a laugh.  “What foolish things you say!”

But with greater determination he repeated:  “I shall wait for you—­the day after to-morrow.”

Then she hurriedly gave a whispered reply: 

“Very well—­the day after to-morrow.”

Malignon bowed and made his exit.  Madame de Chermette followed in company with Madame Tissot.  Juliette, in the best of spirits, walked with them into the hall, and said to the former of these ladies with her most amiable look: 

“I shall call on you the day after to-morrow.  I have a lot of calls to make that day.”

Helene stood riveted to the floor, her face quite white.  Pierre, in the meanwhile, had poured out the punch, and now handed the glass to her.  She grasped it mechanically and carried it to Mademoiselle Aurelie, who was making an inroad on the preserved fruits.

“Oh, you are far too kind!” exclaimed the old maid.  “I should have made a sign to Pierre.  I’m sure it’s a shame not offering the punch to ladies.  Why, when people are my age—­”

She got no further, however, for she observed the ghastliness of Helene’s face.  “You surely are in pain!  You must take a drop of punch!”

“Thank you, it’s nothing.  The heat is so oppressive—­”