n income of twelve hundred francs. Next he furnished his
sister-in-law's rooms, and promised her a quarterly allowance of three
thousand francs. Here you see the meaning of his dramatic labors and the
pleasure caused him by the success of his first play.

Mme. Gaston, therefore, is no rival of yours, and has every right to
your name. A man of Gaston's sensitive delicacy was bound to keep the
affair secret from you, knowing as he did, your generous nature. Nor
does he look on what you give him as his own. D'Arthez read me the
letter he had from your husband, asking him to be one of the witnesses
at his marriage. Gaston in this declares that his happiness would have
been perfect but for the one drawback of his poverty and indebtedness
to you. A virgin soul is at the mercy of such scruples. Either they make
themselves felt or they do not; and when they do, it is easy to imagine
the conflict of feeling and embarrassment to which they give rise.
Nothing is more natural than Gaston's wish to provide in secret a
suitable maintenance for the woman who is his brother's widow, and who
had herself set aside one hundred thousand francs for him from her own
fortune. She is a handsome woman, warm-hearted, and extremely well-bred,
but not clever. She is a mother; and, you may be sure, I lost my heart
to her at first sight when I found her with one child in her arms, and
the other dressed like a little lord. The children first! is written in
every detail of her house.

Far from being angry, therefore, with your beloved husband, you should
find in all this fresh reason for loving him. I have met him, and think
him the most delightful young fellow in Paris. Yes! dear child, when I
saw him, I had no difficulty in understanding that a woman might lose
her head about him; his soul is mirrored in his countenance. If I were
you, I should settle the widow and her children at the chalet, in a
pretty little cottage which you could have built for them, and adopt the
boys!

Be at peace, then, dear soul, and plan this little surprise, in your
turn, for Gaston.

LVI. MME. GASTON TO THE COMTESSE DE L'ESTORADE

Ah! my dear friend, what can I say in answer except the cruel _"It is
too late"_ of that fool Lafayette to his royal master? Oh! my life,
my sweet life, what physician will give it back to me. My own hand has
dealt the deathblow. Alas! have I not been a mere will-o'-the-wisp,
whose twinkling spark was fated to perish before it reache