house unless I am with you."
Scared in this way, she at length was induced to give the promise.
It was at best but an unsatisfactory compromise; and more than once I debated with myself whether, in her interests, I should not be justified in breaking the pledge of secrecy and going to Colonel Katona myself.
But I put that course aside for the moment and set out for Madame d'Artelle's house.
I had not been two minutes with her before I saw that a considerable change had come over the position in my absence. She was so affectionate that I knew she was deceiving me. She over-acted her new role outrageously. She overwhelmed me with kisses and caresses, called Heaven to witness how much she had missed me, and declared she had been inconsolably miserable in my absence. Considering the terms on which we had parted, I should have been a mole not to have seen that this was false.
She was so afraid of offending me indeed, that she scarcely dared to show a legitimate curiosity as to the cause of my absence. She had obviously been coached by Count Gustav; and when a man coaches a woman, he generally makes her blunder. I could see that she was quivering to know what I had been doing, and on tenterhooks lest I had been working against her.
I thought it judicious, therefore, to frighten her a little; and when the due moment came I asked, significantly: "Have you the proofs yet of M. Constan's death?"" You are not going to talk of disagreeable things directly you get back, are you?" "His death would not be disagreeable to you, Henriette?" "You cannot guess what I have endured from that man. I tell you, Christabel, he is a man to raise the devil in a woman." "A good many men can do that," I said, sententiously. "But if he is dead he can raise no more devils in either man or woman. Where did he die and when?" "It does not matter to me now whether he is dead or living. You have had your way. I shall not marry Count Karl." "And your gratitude to me for this is the reason of your kisses and caresses on my return?" She was very easy to stab; and her eyes flashed with sudden anger. She was too angry indeed to reply at once. "You are a very singular girl, Christabel--very difficult to love," she said, as if to reproach me. "Easier to hate, perhaps; but you should not pretend to love me. We need not make believe to love each other, Henriette. I do not love you. I saved your life in Paris, and when I found you here you wished me to come into your house because you thought you could more easily prevent my saying what I knew about you. That has more to do with fear than love--much more. And it does not seem to have occurred to you that I too might have a selfish motive in coming." "What was it?" She rapped the question out very sharply. "For one thing I thought it would be 

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