ghts. Though he could not confess his misdeeds, the
painter knew them, and he had come back to his mistress more in love,
and more affectionate, trying thus to purchase her tacit forgiveness.
Adelaide was enjoying such perfect, such sweet happiness, that she did
not think she had paid too dear for it with all the grief that had so
cruelly crushed her soul. And yet, this true concord of hearts, this
understanding so full of magic charm, was disturbed by a little speech
of Madame de Rouville's.

"Let us have our little game," she said, "for my old friend Kergarouet
will not let me off."

These words revived all the young painter's fears; he colored as he
looked at Adelaide's mother, but he saw nothing in her countenance but
the expression of the frankest good-nature; no double meaning marred its
charm; its keenness was not perifidious, its humor seemed kindly, and no
trace of remorse disturbed its equanimity.

He sat down to the card-table. Adelaide took side with the painter,
saying that he did not know piquet, and needed a partner.

All through the game Madame de Rouville and her daughter exchanged looks
of intelligence, which alarmed Hippolyte all the more because he was
winning; but at last a final hand left the lovers in the old lady's
debt.

To feel for some money in his pocket the painter took his hands off the
table, and he then saw before him a purse which Adelaide had slipped in
front of him without his noticing it; the poor child had the old one
in her hand, and, to keep her countenance, was looking into it for the
money to pay her mother. The blood rushed to Hippolyte's heart with such
force that he was near fainting.

The new purse, substituted for his own, and which contained his fifteen
gold louis, was worked with gilt beads. The rings and tassels bore
witness to Adelaide's good taste, and she had no doubt spent all her
little hoard in ornamenting this pretty piece of work. It was impossible
to say with greater delicacy that the painter's gift could only be
repaid by some proof of affection.

Hippolyte, overcome with happiness, turned to look at Adelaide and her
mother, and saw that they were tremulous with pleasure and delight at
their little trick. He felt himself mean, sordid, a fool; he longed to
punish himself, to rend his heart. A few tears rose to his eyes; by an
irresistible impulse he sprang up, clasped Adelaide in his arms, pressed
her to his heart, and stole a kiss; then with the simple h