She concluded thus,—­

“What we want most of all, oh, my only friend! is courage.  Will you have as much as your Henrietta?”

“Oh, certainly, certainly!  I shall have all that is needed,” exclaimed Daniel, moved to tears.

And he vowed to himself that he would devote himself, heart and soul, to his work, and there find, if not forgetfulness, at least peace.  He found, however, that to swear was easier than to do.  In spite of all his efforts, he could not fix his thoughts upon any thing else but his misfortunes.  The studies which he had formerly pursued with delight now filled him with disgust.  The balance of his whole life was so completely destroyed, that he was not able to restore it.

The existence which he now led was that of a desperate man.  As soon as he had risen, he hurried to M. de Brevan, and remained in his company as long as he could.  Left alone, he wandered at haphazard along the Boulevards, or up the Champs Elysees.  He dined early, hurried home again, and, putting on a rough overcoat which he had worn on board ship, he went to roam around the palace of his beloved.

There, behind those heavy, beautifully carved gates, which were open to all comers but to him, lived she who was more to him than his life.  If he had struck the flagstones of the sidewalk with the heel of his boots, she would have heard the sound.  He could hear the music of her piano; and yet the will of one man placed an abyss between them.

He was dying of inaction.  It seemed to him atrocious, humiliating, intolerable, to be thus reduced to expecting good or evil fortune from fate, passively, without making an effort, like a man, who having taken a ticket in a lottery, and is all anxiety to obtain a large fortune, crosses his arms and waits for the drawing.

He was suffering thus for six days, and saw no end of it; when one morning, just as he was going out, his bell rang.  He went to open the door.

It was a lady, who, without saying a word, swiftly walked in, and as promptly shut the door behind her.

Although she was wrapped up in a huge cloak which completely hid her figure, in spite of the very thick veil before her face, Daniel recognized her at once.

“Miss Brandon!” he exclaimed.

In the meantime she had raised her veil, “Yes, it is I,” she replied, “risking another calumny in addition to all the others that have been raised against me, Daniel.”

Amazed at a step which seemed to him the height of imprudence, he remained standing in the anteroom, and did not even think of inviting Miss Brandon to go into the next room, his study.

She went in of her own accord, quite aloof; and, when he had followed her, she said to him,—­

“I came, sir, to ask you what you have done with that promise you gave me the other night at my house?”

She waited a moment; and, as he did not reply, she went on,—­