know not what to do with it. Married four years, and every night upon
retiring I have locked the door of my bedchamber. And what is the
widow's portion? The menace of the block or imprisonment. I was a
lure to his political schemes, and I never knew it till too late.
Could I but find that paper! Writing is a dangerous and compromising
habit. I shall never use a pen again; not I. One signs a marriage
certificate or a death-warrant."

Anne crossed the room and put her arms round her companion, who
accepted the caress with moist eyes.

"You will have me weeping in a moment, Gabrielle," said Anne.

"Let us weep together, then; only I shall weep from pure rage."

"There is peace in the convent," murmured Anne.

"Peace is as the heart is; and mine shall never know peace. I have
been disillusioned too soon. I should go mad in a convent. Did I not
pass my youth in one,--to what end?"

"If only you loved a good man."

"Or even a man," whimsically. "Go on with the thought."

"The mere loving would make you happy."

Madame searched Anne's blue eyes. "Dear heart, are you not hiding
something from me? Your tone is so mournful. Can it be?" as if
suddenly illumined within.