fact to every one.
It is difficult to understand how, with such a disposition and a great
deal of common sense, he has committed the signal error of marrying, at
the age of fifty-five, a young and pretty woman, and a creole, I believe,
in the bargain.

"Monsieur de Breuilly!" said the marquis, as he presented me to the
punctilious gentleman, "my best friend, who will infallibly become yours
also, and who, quite as infallibly, will cut your throat if you attempt to
show any attention to his wife."

"Mon Dieu! my dear friend," replied Monsieur de Breuilly, with a laugh
that was anything but joyful, and accentuating each word in his peculiar
style, "why represent me to this gentleman as a Norman Othello? Monsieur
may surely--monsieur is perfectly free to--besides, he knows and can
observe the proper limits of things. At any rate, sir, here is Madame de
Breuilly; suffer me to recommend her myself to your kind attentions."

Somewhat surprised at this language, I had the simplicity, or perhaps the
innocent malice, of interpreting it literally. I sat down squarely by the
side of Madame de Breuilly, and I began paying her marked attention,
while, however, "observing the proper limits of things." In the meantime,
Monsieur de Breuilly was watching us from a distance, with an
extraordinary countenance. I could see his little gray eyes sparkling like
glowing ashes; he was laughing loud, grinning, stamping, and fairly
disjointing his fingers with sinister cracks. Monsieur de Malouet came
suddenly to me, handed me a whist card, and taking me aside:

"What the duse has got into you?" he said.

"Into me? why, nothing!"

"Have I not warned you? It's quite a serious matter. Look at Breuilly! It
is the only weakness of that gallant man; every one respects it here. Do
likewise, I beg of you."

From the weakness of that gallant man, it results that his wife is
condemned in society to perpetual quarantine. The fighting propensities of
a husband are often but an additional attraction for the lightning; but
men hesitate to risk their lives without any prospect of possible
compensation, and we have here a man who threatens you at least with a
public scandal, not only before harvest, as they say, but even before the
seed has been fairly sown. Such a state of affairs manifestly discourages
the most enterprising, and it is quite rare that Madame de Breuilly has
not two vacant seats on her right and on her left, despite her nonchalant
grac