ough his hearth to its
grave in the center of the globe, or had the trees that nodded their
naked branches without the window commenced a dance upon the snowy
ground, he had not been more surprised.

Monsieur Pierre Lavalles, and Madame Pierre Lavalles stood just inside
the doorway. Never had Monsieur Perron seen them before, as he saw
them now. Like turtle-doves, with smiling eyes, and affectionate
caress, they had lived in happy harmony during the seven months of
their married life, and motherly dames, when they gave their daughters
away, bade them prosper and be pleasant in their union, as they had
been joyous in their love, pleasant and joyous, as neighbor Lavalles
and his wife.

Now, Pierre stood red and angry, with his right arm extended,
gesticulating toward his wife. Julie stood red and angry, with her
left arm extended, gesticulating toward her husband. Eyes, that had
only radiated smiles, flashed with fierce passion, as the turtle doves
remained near the door, each endeavoring to anticipate the other in
some address to the worthy notary. He, aghast and perplexed, waited
for the _denouement_.

"Madame," said Monsieur Pierre Lavalles, "allow me to speak."

"Monsieur," said Madame Pierre Lavalles. "I insist--"

"But, Madame, it is my--"

"But, Monsieur, I say I will."

"And yet I will."

"But no--"

"Madame, I shall."

"Then be careful what you do; M. Perron, M. Lavalles is mad."

Then the lady, having thus emphatically declared herself, resigned the
right of speech to her husband, who began to jerk out in disconnected
phrases a statement of his case. Seven days ago he had annoyed his
wife by some incautious word; she had annoyed him by an incautious
answer; he had made matters worse by an aggravating retort; and she
had widened the breach by a bitter reply. This little squall was
succeeded by a cool calm, and that by a sullen silence, until some
sudden friction kindled a new flame, and finally, after successive
storms and lulls, there burst forth a furious conflagration, and
in the violent collision of their anger, the seven-months' married
pair vowed to separate, and with that resolve had visited M. Perron.
Reconciliation they declared was beyond possibility, and they
requested the notary at once to draw up the documents that should
consign them to different homes, to subsist on a divided patrimony,
in loveless and unhappy marriage. Each told a tale in turn, and the
manner of relation added fuel