On the evening after the funeral of Rose and Blanche, Rodin wrote two letters.  The first, addressed to his mysterious correspondent at Rome, alluded to the deaths of Jacques Rennepont, and Rose and Blanche Simon, as well as to the cession of M. Hardy’s property, and the donation of Gabriel—­events which reduced the claimants of the inheritance to two—­Mdlle. de Cardoville and Djalma.  This first note written by Rodin for Rome, contained only the following words:  “Five from seven leaves two.  Announce this result to the Cardinal-Prince.  Let him go on.  I advance advance-advance!” The second note, in a feigned hand, was addressed to Marshal Simon, to be delivered by a sure messenger, contained these few lines:  “If there is yet time, make haste to return.  Your daughters are both dead.  You shall learn who killed them.”

CHAPTER LVIII.

Ruin.

It is the day after the death of Marshal Simon’s daughters.  Mdlle. de Cardoville is yet ignorant of the sad end of her young relatives.  Her countenance is radiant with happiness, and never has she looked more beautiful; her eye has never been more brilliant, her complexion more dazzling white, her lip of a richer coral.  According to her somewhat eccentric custom of dressing herself in her own house in a picturesque style, Adrienne wears to-day, though it is about three o’clock in the afternoon, a pale green watered-silk dress, with a very full skirt, the sleeves and bodice slashed with rose-colored ribbon, and adorned with white bugle-beads, of exquisite workmanship; while a slender network, also of white bugle-beads, concealing the thick plait of Adrienne’s back hair, forms an oriental head-dress of charming originality, and contrasts agreeably with the long curls which fall in front almost to the swell of the bosom.  To the expression of indescribable happiness which marks the features of Mdlle. de Cardoville, is added a certain resolute, cutting, satirical air, which is not habitual to her.  Her charming head, and graceful, swan-like neck, are raised in an attitude of defiance; her small, rose-colored nostrils seem to dilate with ill-repressed ardor, and she waits with haughty impatience for the moment of an aggressive and ironical interview.  Not far from Adrienne is Mother Bunch.  She has resumed in the house the place which she at first occupied.  The young sempstress is in mourning for her sister, but her countenance is expressive of a mild, calm sorrow.  She looks at Mdlle. de Cardoville with surprise; for never, till now, has she seen the features of the fair patrician impressed with such a character of ironical audacity.  Mdlle. de Cardoville was exempt from the slightest coquetry, in the narrow and ordinary sense of the word.  Yet she now cast an inquiring look at the glass before which she was standing, and, having restored the elastic smoothness to one of her long, golden curls, by rolling it for a moment