M. de Camors and Madame de Campvallon, suspecting that they had been betrayed a second time by Madame de la Roche-Jugan, had broken with her; and she could presume that, should she present herself at the door of the Marquise, orders would have been given not to admit her.  This affront made her angrier still.  She was still a prey to the violence of her wrath when she received a visit from Madame de Camors.  She affected to make the General’s death the theme of conversation, shed a few tears over her old friend, and kissed the hand of her niece with a burst of tenderness.

“My poor little thing!” she said to her; “it is for you also I weep—­for you will yet be more unhappy than heretofore, if that can be possible.”

“I do not understand you, Madame,” answered the young woman, coldly.

“If you do not understand me, so much the better,” replied Madame de la Roche-Jugan, with a shade of bitterness; then, after a moment’s pause—­” Listen, my dear! this is a duty of conscience which I comply with.  You see, an honest creature like you merits a better fate; and your mother too, who is also a dupe.  That man would deceive the good God.  In the name of my family, I feel bound to ask your pardon for both of them.”

“I repeat, Madame, that I do not understand you.”

“But it is impossible, my child—­come!—­it is impossible that all this time you have suspected nothing.”

“I suspect nothing, Madame,” said Madame de Camors, “because I know all.”

“Ah!” continued Madame de la Roche-Jugan, dryly; “if this be so, I have nothing to say.  But there are persons, in that case, who can accommodate their consciences to very strange things.”

“That is what I thought a moment ago, Madame,” said the young woman, rising.

“As you wish, my dear; but I speak in your own interest, and I shall reproach myself for not having spoken to you more clearly.  I know my nephew better than you will ever know him; and the other also.  Notwithstanding you say so, you do not know all; let me tell you.  The General died very suddenly; and after him, it is your turn!  Be very careful, my poor child!”

“Oh, Madame!” cried the young woman, becoming ghastly pale; “I shall never see you again while I live!” She left on the instant-ran home, and there found her mother.  She repeated to her the terrible words she had just heard, and her mother tried to calm her; but she herself was disturbed.  She went immediately to Madame de la Roche-Jugan, and supplicated her to have pity on them and to retract the abominable innuendo she had thrown out, or to explain it more fully.  She made her understand that she would inform M. de Camors of the affair in case of need, and that he would hold his cousin Sigismund responsible.  Terrified in her turn, Madame de la Roche-Jugan judged the best method was to destroy M. de Camors in the estimation of Madame de Tecle.  She related what had been told her by Vautrot, being