rious characters, Colonel Delmare, Raymon, Ralph and Inaiana. We ought
to question the husbands who married wives belonging to the race of
misunderstood women brought into vogue by _Indiana_.

_Valentine_, too, is the story of a woman unhappily married.

This time the chief _role_ is given to the lover, and not to the woman.
Instead of the misunderstood woman, though, we have the typical frenzied
lover, created by the romantic school. Louise-Valentine de Raimbault
is about to marry Norbert-Evariste de Lansac, when suddenly this young
person, who is accustomed to going about in the country round and to the
village fetes, falls in love with the nephew of one of her farmers.
The young man's name is Benedict, and he is a peasant who has had some
education. His mentality is probably that of a present-day elementary
school-teacher. Valentine cannot resist him, although we are told that
Benedict is not very handsome. It is his soul which Valentine loves in
him. Benedict knows very well that he cannot marry Valentine, but he can
cause her a great deal of annoyance by way of proving his love. On the
night of the wedding he is in the nuptial chamber, from which the
author has taken care to banish the husband for the time being. Benedict
watches over the slumber of the woman he loves, and leaves her an
epistle in which he declares that, after hesitating whether he should
kill her husband, her, or himself, or whether he should kill all three,
or only select two of the three, and after adopting in turn each of
these combinations, he has decided to only kill himself. He is found
in a ditch in a terrible plight, but we are by no means rid of him.
Benedict is not dead, and he has a great deal of harm to do yet. We
shall meet with him again several times, always hidden behind curtains,
listening to all that is said and watching all that takes place. At the
right moment he comes out with his pistol in his hand. The husband is
away during all this time. No one troubles about him, though. He is a
bad husband, or rather he is--a husband, and Benedict has nothing to
fear as far as he is concerned. But one day a peasant, who does not like
the looks of Benedict, attacks him with his pitchfork and puts an end to
this valuable life.

The question arises, by what right Benedict disturbs Valentine's
tranquillity. The answer is by the right of his passion for her. He has
an income of about twenty pounds a year. It would be impossible for him
to