passed, during which Madame de Rochefide held Calyste to
the consideration of conjugal faith, pointing out to him the horrible
alternative of an utter renunciation of Sabine. Nothing else could
reassure her, she said, in the dreadful situation to which Calyste's
love would reduce her. Then she affected to regard the sacrifice of
Sabine as a small matter, she knew her so well!

"My dear child," she said, "that's a woman who fulfils all the promises
of her girlhood. She is a Grandlieu, to be sure, but she's as brown as
her mother the Portuguese, not to say yellow, and as dry and stiff as
her father. To tell the truth, your wife will never go wrong; she's a
big boy who can take care of herself. Poor Calyste! is that the sort of
woman you needed? She has fine eyes, but such eyes are very common in
Italy and in Spain and Portugal. Can any woman be tender with bones like
hers. Eve was fair; brown women descend from Adam, blondes come from the
hand of God, which left upon Eve his last thought after he had created
her."

About six o'clock Calyste, driven to desperation, took his hat to
depart.

"Yes, go, my poor friend," she said; "don't give her the annoyance of
dining without you."

Calyste stayed. At his age it was so easy to snare him on his worst
side.

"What! you dare to dine with me?" said Beatrix, playing a provocative
amazement. "My poor food does not alarm you? Have you enough
independence of soul to crown me with joy by this little proof of your
affection?"

"Let me write a note to Sabine; otherwise she will wait dinner for me
till nine o'clock."

"Here," said Beatrix, "this is the table at which I write."

She lighted the candles herself, and took one to the table to look over
what he was writing.

"_My dear Sabine--_"

"'My dear'?--can you really say that your wife is still dear to you?"
she asked, looking at him with a cold eye that froze the very marrow of
his bones. "Go,--you had better go and dine with her."

"_I dine at a restaurant with some friends._"

"A lie. Oh, fy! you are not worthy to be loved either by her or by me.
Men are all cowards in their treatment of women. Go, monsieur, go and
dine with your dear Sabine."

Calyste flung himself back in his arm-chair and became as pale as death.
Bretons possess a courage of nature which makes them obstinate under
difficulties. Presently the young baron sat up, put his elbow on the
table, his chin in his hand, and looked at the implacable Beatr