When the guests returned to the drawing-room, Duroy asked Mme. deMarelle: "May I escort you home?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because M. Laroche-Mathieu, who is my neighbor, leaves me at mydoor every time that I dine here."

"When shall I see you again?"

"Lunch with me to-morrow."

They parted without another word. Duroy did not remain late; as hedescended the staircase, he met Norbert de Varenne, whom was likewisegoing away. The ancient poet took his arm; fearing no rivalry on thenewspaper, their work being essentially different, he was somewhatfriendly to the young man.

"Shall we walk along together?"

"I shall be pleased to," said in reply Duroy.