ges of society; for there are
things which I do not understand. Is it admissible--is it proper to allow
a woman of my age and a gentleman of yours to return from a ball,
tete-a-tete, at two o'clock in the morning?"

"But," said Lucan, not without a certain gravity, "I am not a gentleman; I
am your mother's husband."

"Ah! that is true; of course, you are my mother's husband!" she said,
emphasizing these words in a ringing voice, which caused Lucan to fear
some explosion.

But, appearing to overcome a violent emotion, she went on in an almost
cheerful tone:

"Yes, you are my mother's husband; and what is more, you are, according to
my notion, a very bad husband for my mother."

"According to your notion!" said Lucan, quietly. "And why so?"

"Because you are not at all suited to her."

"Have you consulted your mother on that subject, my dear madam? It seems
to me that she must be a better judge of it than yourself."

"I need not consult her. It is enough to see you both together. My mother
is an angelic creature, whereas you;--no!"

"What am I, then?"

"A romantic, restless man--the very reverse, in fact. Sooner or later,
you'll betray her."

"Never!" said Lucan, somewhat sternly.

"Are you quite sure of that, sir?" said Julia, riveting her gaze upon him
from the depths of her hood.

"Dear madam," replied Monsieur de Lucan, "you were asking me, a moment
since, to explain to you what was proper and what was improper; well, it
is improper that we should take, you your mother, and I my wife, as the
text for a jest of that kind, and consequently, it is proper that we
should drop the subject."

She hushed, remained motionless and closed her eyes. In the course of a
minute or two, Lucan saw a tear fall down her long eyelashes and roll over
her cheek.

"Mon Dieu! my child," he said, "I have wounded your feelings! Allow me to
tender you my sincere apologies."

"Keep your apologies to yourself!" she said, in a hoarse voice, opening
her eyes wide at the same time. "I have no need of your apologies any
more than of your lessons! Your lessons! What have I done to deserve such
a humiliation? I cannot understand. What is there more innocent than my
words, and what do you expect me to tell you? Is it my fault if I am here
alone with you! if I am compelled to speak to you?--if I know not what to
say? Why am I exposed to such things? Why ask me more than I can do? It
is presuming too much on my strength! It is enough-