for some public property the effect of which would have been to strip Monsieur de Lucan of a portion of his timbered lands and to curtail materially his patrimonial estate.  He had gained his suit in the lower court, but an appeal was soon to be heard, and he was not without fears as to the final result.  He had no difficulty in using that pretext, to account during the next few days, to the eyes of the inhabitants of the chateau, for a severity of physiognomy, a briefness of language, and a fondness for solitude, which concealed perhaps graver cares.  That pretext, however, soon failed him.  A telegram informed him, early the following week, that the suit had been finally decided in his favor, and he was compelled to manifest on this occasion an apparent joy that was far indeed from his heart.

He resumed from that moment the usual routine of family life to which Julia continued to impart the movement of her active imagination.  However, he ceased to lend himself with the same affectionate familiarity to the caprices of his step-daughter.  She noticed it; but she was not the only one who did.  Lucan detected surprise in the eyes of Monsieur de Moras, reproaches in those of Clotilde.  A new danger appeared before him; he was acting in a manner which it was equally impossible, equally perilous to explain or to allow being interpreted.

With time, however, the frightful light that had flashed across his brain in a recent circumstance was growing gradually fainter; it had ceased to fill his mind with the same convincing force.  He conceived doubts; he accused himself at times on a veritable aberration; he charged the baroness with cruel and guilty prejudices; he thought, in a word, that, at all events, the wisest course was to avoid believing in the drama, and giving it life by taking a serious part in it.  Unfortunately Julia’s disposition, full of surprises and unforeseen whims, scarcely admitted of any regular plan of conduct toward her.

One beautiful afternoon, the guests of the chateau accompanied by a few of the neighbors, had gone on a horseback excursion to the extremity of Cape La Hague.  On the return home, and when they had come about half-way, Julia, who had been remarkably quiet all day, left the principal group of riders, and, casting aside to Monsieur de Lucan an expressive glance, she urged her horse slightly forward.  He overtook her almost immediately.  She cast upon him again an oblique glance, and abruptly, with her bitterest and most incisive accent: 

“Is my presence dangerous to you, sir?”

“How, dangerous?” he said, laughingly.  “I do not understand you, my dear madam.”

“Why do you avoid me?  What have I done to you?  What means this new and disagreeable manner which you affect toward me?  It is really a very strange thing that you should become less polite to me, as I am more so to you.  They persecute one for years to induce me to show you a pleasant countenance, and when I try my best to do so, you pout.  What does it mean?  What has got into your head?  I should be infinitely curious to know.”