ony. After dinner they walked up and down the baroness's
avenue, and he whispered in her ear:

"Then we are going to be friends again?"

She made no answer, and kept her eyes fixed on the ground, where there
was a straight line, hardly so thickly covered with grass as the rest of
the path. It was the line traced by the baroness's foot, which was
gradually being effaced, just as her memory was fading, and, as she
looked at it, Jeanne's heart felt bursting with grief; she seemed so
lonely, so separated from everybody.

"For my part, I am only too pleased," continued Julien. "I should have
proposed it before, but I was afraid of displeasing you."

The sun was setting; it was a mild, soft evening, and Jeanne longed to
rest her head on some loving heart, and there sob out her sorrows. She
threw herself into Julien's arms, her breast heaving, and the tears
streaming from her eyes. He looked at her in surprise, thinking this
outburst was occasioned by the love she still felt for him, and, unable
to see her face, he dropped a condescending kiss upon her hair. Then
they went indoors in silence and he followed her to her room.

To him this renewal of their former relations was a duty, though hardly
an unpleasant one, while she submitted to his embraces as a disgusting,
painful necessity, and resolved to put an end to them for ever, as soon
as her object was accomplished. Soon, however, she found that her
husband's caresses were not like they used to be; they may have been
more refined, they certainly were not so complete. He treated her like a
careful lover, instead of being an easy husband.

"Why do you not give yourself up to me as you used to do?" she whispered
one night, her lips close to his.

"To keep you out of the family way, of course," he answered, with a
chuckle.

She started.

"Don't you wish for any more children, then?" she asked.

His amazement was so great, that, for a moment, he was silent; then:

"Eh? What do you say?" he exclaimed. "Are you in your right senses?
Another child? I should think not, indeed! We've already got one too
many, squalling and costing money, and bothering everybody. Another
child! No, thank you!"

She clasped him in her arms, pressed her lips to his and murmured:

"Oh! I entreat you, make me a mother once more."

"Don't be so foolish," he replied, angrily. "Pray don't let me hear any
more of this nonsense."

She said no more, but she resolved to trick him into giving her