before her aunt.

'And where will you see him, dear?'

'Wherever he pleases,' said Marie, with something that was again
almost savage in her voice.

'Shall he come up-stairs to you?'

'What, here?'

'No; he cannot come here. You might go into the little sitting-
room.'

'Very well. I will go into the little sitting room.' Then without
saying another word she got up, left the room, and went along the
passage to the chamber in question. It was a small room, furnished,
as they all thought at Granpere, with Parisian elegance, intended
for such visitors to the hotel as might choose to pay for the charm
and luxury of such an apartment. It was generally found that
visitors to Granpere did not care to pay for the luxury of this
Parisian elegance, and the room was almost always empty. Thither
Marie went, and seated herself at once on the centre of the red,
stuffy, velvet sofa. There she sat, perfectly motionless, till
there came a knock at the door. Marie Bromar was a very handsome
girl, but as she sat there, all alone, with her hands crossed on her
lap, with a hard look about her mouth, with a frown on her brow, and
scorn and disdain for all around her in her eyes, she was as little
handsome as it was possible that she should make herself. She
answered the knock, and Adrian Urmand entered the room. She did not