[*] The reader may be reminded that the period of the story is that of
    the Crimean war.

“Pooh! hold your tongue; you are talking foolishly!  Now, if you had only studied the matter carefully with me—­”

But she broke off to greet Helene, who entered at this moment.

“Good-day, my dear!  It is very kind of you to call.  I don’t suppose you have any news.  This morning’s paper talked of an ultimatum.  There has been a very exciting debate in the English House of Commons!”

“No, I don’t know anything,” answered Helene, who was astounded by the question.  “I go out so little!”

However, Juliette had not waited for her reply, but was busy explaining to Pauline why it was necessary to neutralize the Black Sea; and her talk bristled with references to English and Russian generals, whose names she mentioned in a familiar way and with faultless pronunciation.  However, Henri now made his appearance with several newspapers in his hand.  Helene at once realized that he had come there for her sake; for their eyes had sought one another and exchanged a long, meaning glance.  And when their hands met it was in a prolonged and silent clasp that told how the personality of each was lost in the other.

“Is there anything in the papers?” asked Juliette feverishly.

“In the papers, my dear?” repeated the doctor; “no there’s never anything.”

For a time the Eastern Question dropped into the background.  There were frequent allusions to some one whom they were expecting, but who did not make his appearance.  Pauline remarked that it would soon be three o’clock.  Oh he would come, declared Madame Deberle; he had given such a definite promise; but she never hinted at any name.  Helene listened without understanding; things which had no connection with Henri did not in the least interest her.  She no longer brought her work when she now came down into the garden; and though her visits would last a couple of hours, she would take no part in the conversation, for her mind was ever filled with the same childish dream wherein all others miraculously vanished, and she was left alone with him.  However, she managed to reply to Juliette’s questions, while Henri’s eyes, riveted on her own, thrilled her with a delicious languor.  At last he stepped behind her with the intention of pulling up one of the blinds, and she fully divined that he had come to ask another meeting, for she noticed the tremor that seized him when he brushed against her hair.

“There’s a ring at the bell; that must be he!” suddenly exclaimed Pauline.

Then the faces of the two sisters assumed an air of indifference.  It was Malignon who made his appearance, dressed with greater care than ever, and having a somewhat serious look.  He shook hands; but eschewed his customary jocularity, thus returning, in a ceremonious manner, to this house where for some time he had not shown his face.