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The life was too strenuous for her. She broke down, took no care of herself, developed a cough and alas! tuberculosis." The man sighed. He had adopted an expression of abstract sympathy. "A terrible disease," he murmured. "A terrible disease indeed," Madame Christophor repeated. "Do you not understand what I mean when I tell you that she is dying of it?
"Have you made any inquiries as to his condition?" Estermen shrugged his shoulders. "The household of Madame Christophor," he replied, "is, as you know, outside my sphere of influence. It is, besides, incorruptible. I myself am personally obnoxious to Madame. I could do nothing but wait for your coming." Prince Falkenberg stood with his hands behind him, thinking.
If Madame Christophor isn't that the name she chooses to be called by? becomes exacting, I am not even sure that I shan't regret my bow-making." "Tell me exactly how long you have known her, Julien!" the Duchess persisted. "Since my arrival in Paris this time," Julien answered. "I had well, a sort of introduction to her."
To his surprise, when he presented himself in the smaller salon to which he had been directed, he found the table laid for two only. Madame Christophor, who was standing on the threshold of the winter-garden opening out from the apartment, read his expression and frowned. "You expected Lady Anne to dine?" she asked bluntly. Julien was taken a little aback.
He had quite made up his mind not to call upon Madame Christophor. It would, in fact, now be impossible. He would never be able to explain his avoidance of her. He was in a part of Paris of which he knew nothing, but he walked on aimlessly, anxious only to escape the vicinity of the clubs and of the fashionable thoroughfares.
It was broken at last by the Prince von Falkenberg. "I must confess," he said slowly, "that I do not altogether understand." Madame Christophor faced him with a faint smile upon her lips. The smile itself told him all that he desired to know. "But, my dear Prince," she declared, "it is my anxiety for your safety which induces me to propose this.
"I shall expect you in the morning," Madame Christophor said, smiling at Lady Anne. "Don't be later than ten o'clock. I am always at home after four, Duchess, if you are spending any time in Paris," she added. They watched her as she passed to the little group who were awaiting her arrival. She was certainly one of the most elegant women in the room. Lady Anne looked after her with a faint frown.
Madame Christophor looked at him thoughtfully. There was a slight frown upon her forehead. "Somewhere near the Gare du Nord!" she repeated. Julien found Lady Anne in a small, stuffy apartment on the third floor of the house in the Rue St. Antoine. Before her was a sewing-machine, and the floor of the room was littered with oddments of black calico.
"It seemed natural to expect her," he admitted. Madame Christophor moved towards the bell, but Julien intercepted her. He remembered all that he owed to this woman. He was ashamed of his lack of tact. "Dear Madame Christophor," he pleaded, "forgive me if for a moment I forgot how altered things are. Indeed, it was not a matter of choice with me.
They came strolling along and noticed for the first time the two figures upon the seat. Instantly they began to talk upon some local subject. No escape was possible. In a few minutes they were opposite the bench. Foster started a little. The other man's face darkened. He ventured upon a bow. Madame Christophor looked at him as one might look upon some strange animal.
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