“Mademoiselle is in the blues,” said Rosalie, who monopolized all the talk.  “She can’t keep cheerful for two days running.  That’s what comes of dancing about too much yesterday.”

“Do you feel ill, Jeanne?” asked Helene.

“No, mamma,” answered the child.  “It’s only the nasty weather.”

Helene lapsed once more into silence.  She finished her coffee, and sat in her chair, plunged in thought, with her eyes riveted on the flames.  While rising she had reflected that it was her duty to speak to Juliette and bid her renounce the afternoon assignation.  But how?  She could not say.  Still, the necessity of the step was impressed on her, and now her one urgent, all-absorbing thought was to attempt it.  Ten o’clock struck, and she began to dress.  Jeanne gazed at her, and, on seeing her take up her bonnet, clasped her little hands as though stricken with cold, while over her face crept a pained look.  It was her wont to take umbrage whenever her mother went out; she was unwilling to quit her side, and craved to go with her everywhere.

“Rosalie,” said Helene, “make haste and finish the room.  Don’t go out.  I’ll be back in a moment.”

She stooped and gave Jeanne a hasty kiss, not noticing her vexation.  But the moment she had gone a sob broke from the child, who had hitherto summoned all her dignity to her aid to restrain her emotion.

“Oh, mademoiselle, how naughty!” exclaimed the maid by way of consolation.  “Gracious powers! no one will rob you of your mamma.  You must allow her to see after her affairs.  You can’t always be hanging to her skirts!”

Meanwhile Helene had turned the corner of the Rue Vineuse, keeping close to the wall for protection against the rain.  It was Pierre who opened the door; but at sight of her he seemed somewhat embarrassed.

“Is Madame Deberle at home?”

“Yes, madame; but I don’t know whether—­”

Helene, in the character of a family friend, was pushing past him towards the drawing-room; but he took the liberty of stopping her.

“Wait, madame; I’ll go and see.”

He slipped into the room, opening the door as little as he could; and immediately afterwards Juliette could be heard speaking in a tone of irritation.  “What! you’ve allowed some one to come in?  Why, I forbade it peremptorily.  It’s incredible!!  I can’t be left quiet for an instant!”

Helene, however, pushed open the door, strong in her resolve to do that which she imagined to be her duty.

“Oh, it’s you!” said Juliette, as she perceived her.  “I didn’t catch who it was!”

The look of annoyance did not fade from her face, however, and it was evident that the visit was ill-timed.

“Do I disturb you?” asked Helene.

“Not at all, not at all,” answered the other.  “You’ll understand in a moment.  We have been getting up a surprise.  We are rehearsing Caprice[*] to play it on one of my Wednesdays.  We had selected this morning for rehearsal, thinking nobody would know of it.  But you’ll stay now?  You will have to keep silence about it, that’s all.”