inds are every day occurrences
in Paris, and that the wonders of the time are truth and sincerity,
and keeping faith and honor! This, I doubt not, seems strange to you,
but it is true for all that."

"At least it is not our custom down here in Bretagne," returned the
old man, "and that, I suppose, is the reason why it appears to be so
extraordinary to us here. But you will not say, I think, monsieur le
comte, that what else I shall tell you is nothing strange or new."

"What else will you tell me, Matthieu? Let us hear it, and then I
shall be better able to decide."

"Why they say, monsiegneur, that she is no more the Marquis de
Ploermel's wife than she is yours or mine, except in name alone; and
that he does not dare to kiss her hand, much less her lips; and that
they have separate apartments, and are, as it were, strangers
altogether. And that the reason of all this is that Ma'mselle Melanie
is never to be his wife at all, but that she is to go to Paris in a
few days, and to become the king's mistress. Will you tell me that
this is not strange, and more than strange, infamous, and dishonoring
to the very name of man and woman?"

"Even in this, were it true, there would be nothing, I am grieved to
say, very wondrous nowadays--for there have been several base and
terrible examples of such things, I am told, of late; for the rest, I
must sympathize with you in your disgust and horror of such doings,
even if I prove myself thereby a mere country hobereau, and no man of
the world, or of fashion. But you must not believe all these things to
be true which you hear from the country gossips," he added, desirous
still of shielding Melanie, so long as her guilt should be in the
slightest possible degree doubtful, from the reproach which seemed
already to attach to her. "I hardly can believe such things possible
of so fair and modest a demoiselle as the young lady of d'Argenson;
nor is it easy to me to believe that the count would consent to any
arrangement so disgraceful, or that the Chevalier de la Rocheder--I
beg his pardon, the Marquis de Ploermel, would marry a lady for such
an infamous object. I think, therefore, good Matthieu, that, although
there would not even in this be any thing very wonderful, it is yet
neither probable nor true."

"Oh, yes, it is true! I am well assured that it is true, monseigneur,"
replied the old man, shaking his head obstinately; "I do not believe
that there is much truth or honor in this l