.

THE FORESHADOW OF DISASTER.
In the spacious dining salon of the Chateau de Canaples I found the two daughters of my host awaiting us--those same two ladies of the coach in Place Vendome and of the hostelry at Choisy, the dark and stately icicle, Yvonne, and the fair, playful doll, Genevieve.
I bowed my best bow as the Chevalier presented me, and from the corner of my eye, with inward malice, I watched them as I did so.

Genevieve curtsied with a puzzled air and a sidelong glance at her sister.

Yvonne accorded me the faintest, the coldest, inclination of her head, whilst her cheeks assumed a colour that was unwonted.
"We have met before, I think, Monsieur," she said disdainfully.
"True, Mademoiselle--once," I answered, thinking only of the coach.
"Twice, Monsieur," she corrected, whereupon I recalled how she had surprised me with my arm about the waist of the inn-keeper's daughter, and had Heaven given me shame I might have blushed.

But if sweet Yvonne thought to bring Gaston de Luynes to task for profiting by the good things which God's providence sent his way, she was led by vanity into a prodigious error.
"Twice, indeed, Mademoiselle.