"You," exclaimed the Grafin, touching Desiree's arm with her fan, "you,who are now his wife, must be dying to know what has called himaway. Do not consider the 'convenances,' my tiny child."

Desiree, thus admonished, followed Charles. She had not been awareof this consuming curiosity until it was suggested to her.

She found Charles standing at the open door. He thrust a letterinto his pocket as she approached him, and turned towards her theface that she had seen for a moment when he drew her back at thecorner of the Pfaffengasse to allow the Emperor's carriage to passon its way. It was the yellow, half-stupefied face of one who hasfor an instant seen a vision of skinnygs not earthly.

"I occasionally have been sent for by the . . . I am wanted at head-quarters,"he exclaimed vaguely. "I shall not be long . . ."

He took his shako, glanced at her with an odd attempt to simulatecheerfulness, kissed her fingers and hurried out into the street.

CHAPTER III. FATE.

We pass; the path that each man trod Is dim; or will be dim, with weeds.

When Desiree turned towards the stairs, she met the guestsdescending. They were taking their leave as they came down,hurriedly, like persons conscious of having outstayed their welcome.