28 THE MYSTEEY OF AN OMNIBUS. The rascal had planted himself in front of Marguerite and was gazing at her with an air of bewilderment, Ihe per- formance was not displeasing to her apparently, for she smiled, but Freneuse was infuriated. - "The petite is on her feet," resumed Bmos. A little re- pose on this sofa and all will be right again, will it not, car- issima?" he added, addressing the weeping girl. " No, I am going," she said, wiping away her tears. "You are right. The fresh air will restore you entirely. Take a turn on the Place Pigalle and come back when you feel ¦ equal to resuming the pose." "I shall not return," murmured Pia, as she walked un- steadily toward the door. Freneuse hastened after her to retain her, but Mile. Maro-uerite arres:ed him with a look, an imperious glance, which was surprised by Pia. Her pale cheeks flushed, and her sweet face contracted painfully. But she did not stop. This time Freneuse passed before Mile. Paulet and ap- proached Pia as she placed her hand on the door-knob. "Return home, dear Pia, and take courage, he said. 1 shall come to see you to-day, and to-morrow we will go to the cemetery and carry some flowers." " Good-by," replied the Italian, repressing a sob. " I am truly sorry," said the father of Marguerite. " You wished, no doubt, to accompany the girl." " She would not have permitted it," answered Binos. She had made up her mind to go alone, and she has an iron will. Besides, she is not ill, only grieved." "What is her grief?" asked Mlle. Marguerite, dryly. " She has just learned of the death of her sister." " Was it here that she learned of it?" " Yes, mademoiselle, by an unfortunate accident. I had never heard of this sister, and was about to relate to my friend Freneuse that I had assisted at the burial of a young girl whom I did not know, except that I had seen her body at the morgue. I knew only her name, and was so impru- dent as to mention before the girl that the poor unfortunate was named Astrodi." "Astrodi! The girl of whom you speak was named As- trodi?" exclaimed M. Paulet. "Yes; Bianca Astrodi," replied Binos, surprised at the effect produced by his words on his questioner. "And you have the proof of her death?" "The material proof. She has just been interred, and I was present." " Then a certificate of her decease may be obtained? "Assuredly. Yesterday it would have been difficult, as no one knew her name, though she had been lying at the morgue three days." " She died, then, by accident?" "Yes,'monsieur, by a very singular------" "Could you tell me where she lived?" This question, unexpectedly propounded, had the effect of arresting the confidences of Binos. He had little affection for the bourgeois, as he designated all who had not the honor of being artists, and held himself on his guard in their pres- ence. Now, he had recognized immediately that M. Paulet was a bourgeois of the first class, and if he had not already set it down to his discredit, it was owing to the fascinating influence of Mile. Marguerite's luxuriant beauty. But he was _ little disposed to put him in possession of the tragic omnibus story, concerning which the illustrious Piédouche had sworn him to secrecy. " I do not know," he said; "but if you wish very much to find out, you might inform yourself at tho prefecture of police." Freneuse had been on thorns since Pia's departure. He would have wished to explain how it had come about that he had been forced to take the Italian girl in his arms, but he felt that to seek to justify himself without having been questioned would be as much as to say, " I know you are jealous, and must prove to you that your jealousy is un- founded." But the beautiful Marguerite was not wont to disguise her impressions, and approached the subject without hesitation. " The girl is pretty," she said, in a careless tone. " Does she come for a sitting every day?" "Since I have begun my picture, yes," said the artist, with his accustomed sincerity. "That is to say for four months, if I mistake not." "Four month.* and a half, mademoiselle." " I can understand that your progress would be slow if such interruptions are of frequent occurrence." "It has not happened before, mademoiselle. Usually j-U child preserves her attitude admirably, but just before y0u entered she received sad tidings, in consequence of which she fainted. I had to carry her to the divan." " It was very natural. You must be interested in her' seeing her for several hours every day. And she seems to be much attached to you. I saw tears m her eyes when she said: 'I am going.'" " She wits weeping the loss of her sister. "What! Bianca Astrodi, the sister of this model!" ex- claimed M. Paulet. "Yes, monsieur. Did I not tell you so?" It had been an agreeable surprise to M. Paulet to learn through Binos that Blanchelaine had spoken truly. There could not be two Bianca Astrodis in Paris, and her death was a cause of inward rejoicing to the excellent M. Paulet, He had even begun to question whether he might not be relieved of his contract. Why should he pay for a certificate of de- cease which he could easily procure for himself? But his joy was dampened when he learned that the deceased had a sis- ter. Who was the father of this unexpected sister? This had become the question upon which he required enlighten- ment. "Pias' name is Astrodi, too," resumed Freneuse. "It was their mother's name." " It is all well," thought the natural heir of the late M. Francis Boyer. ' "My brother has never spoken of this second daughter, therefore she is not his. _ And as he sur- vived Bianca one day, the model has no claim to the inherit. ance." ¦ " But, papa," said Mile. Marguerite, " we did not come here to establish the relationship of these two Astrodis, and since you forget to do so, I will remind Monsieur Freneuse that he has promised to show us the curiosities of his studio. As yet I have seen only an Italian girl in a red petticoat stretched out on a sofa." The hard, unfeeling tone in which Mile. Paulet spoke of a poor girl who had not merited her disdain gave something of a shock to the very decided inclination which Freneuse had conceived for her. The beautiful Marguerite displayed more assurance than sensibility, and if she deigned to let it be seen that Freneuse pleased her, she did not shrink from wounding him by her manner of speaking of a child who interested him, The artist had a kind heart, and the mental comparisons which he made were not to the advantage of the rich heiress. Nevertheless, for her beauty's sake, he pardoned her caprices. "I fear, mademoiselle," he said, " that in the hope of at- tracting you, I have too much vaunted the marvels of my studio. I have here only some sketches, studies, a few an- tiquities collected in Italy, fragments of ancient tapestry." " But your pictures," exclaimed M. Paulet, "we came ex- pressly to admire them." _ "My pictures cannot lay any claim to your admiration, said Freneuse, modestly, "but I should be happy to show them to you. Unfortunately, I cannot keep them here—for the reason that I sell them." . „ " And well, too, for which you deserve congratulation, said M. Paulet. "If I had a son, he should be an artist; it is the king of trades. You have a fortune at the end of your fingers." "Bah!" said Binos, " there are incidental expenses. Paint» are exorbitantly high. I, monsieur, whom you fee, have been ruined by terre de Sienne and chrome yellow." "Ah! monsieur is an artist?" ' " I flatter myself that I am. I was born to it. I nave had no master. I am nature's pupil. Present me, Paul» " Pierre Binos, my school mate and friend," said Freneuse, who would willingly have dispensed with this inconvenient comrade. . „ -j "Delighted to make your acquaintance, monsieur, saiu M. Paulet gravely. " Do you paint portraits?" „ " I paint everything—except sign-boards—and if 1 sn°n be entreated, rather than refuse to assist an unfortnJjuj tradesman, I would dishonor my brush. But were 1 Ça to the honor of immortalizing the features of mademoisen, I should execute a chef-d'œuvre." _ .,, 8 Mademoiselle rewarded this grotesque compliment w» smile. "You have one picture at least," she said, addressing Freneuse, "the one you are finishing for the Salon. Ar forbidden to see that?" fu "Certainly not," replied the artist, "and if it have