and became persuaded that her bosom bled: slowly, perhaps, but the wound was mortal none the less. Sometimes, after dinner in the salon, he held forth to her on a variety of subjects, running his fingers through his tangled locks, and confident that he had found a fresh victim to his genius and personal allurements. The opportunities of a tête-à-tête were few, however, as Elizabeth sat so little in the public salon, and was busy nearly all day painting. But one evening his chance came, and he was not slow to seize it.
Madame Martineau announced at luncheon that a baignoire at the Théâtre Français had been sent her for that evening, and as the piece was "très convenable pour une jeune personne," she proposed to take Elizabeth with her. She invited Narishkine and Anatole Doucet to escort them, in return for some tickets which each of these gentlemen had lately given her. Elizabeth regretted that the Barings were not of the party, but she accepted the invitation. Fond as she was of a good play, however, it is probable that she would have declined the invitation, had she known that Madame de Belcour would, at the last moment, be substituted for Madame Martineau as a chaperon. The girl's dislike of the younger French woman had never diminished; but when Madame Martineau was taken ill during dinner, and begged Madame de Belcour to fill her place at the theatre, Elizabeth felt that it would be impossible to refuse to accompany her.
"I see there is some use in being married," she said, a little scornfully, to Hatty. "If 'Mrs.' were prefixed to your name, and you were thought to be deploring a
