What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted?
and though I did not receive a word nor a look, yet I cannot think--no, it were impossible to be misrepresented.

Conscious of my own integrity, I will try again--I will go boldly up." The Marquis de Bellecourt saw the opportunity; he advanced three paces, put his hand upon his breast and bowed.

"Permit me," said he, "with the most profound respect, to----." His tongue faltered--he could scarcely believe his sight, for at that moment the whole company were moving out of the room.

He found himself almost alone, deserted by every one.

"What!" said he, "and did he turn upon his heel with the most marked contempt?
Would he not speak to me?
Would he not even hear me utter a word in my defence ?" His heart died within him--not even a look, a smile from any one.