waxed and polished; and Rondic was
delighted, when he returned home at night, to find so carefully arranged
a home, and a wife as neatly dressed as if it were Sunday. He never
asked himself why Clarisse, after the house was in order for the day,
took her seat at the window with folded hands, instead of occupying
herself with needlework, like other women whose days were far too short
for all their duties.

He supposed, innocently enough, that his wife thought only of him while
adorning herself; but the whole village of Indret could have told him
that another occupied all her thoughts, and in this gossip the names of
Madame Rondic and Chariot were never separated. They said that the two
had known each other before Madame Rondic's marriage, and that if the
nephew had wished he could have married the lady, instead of his uncle.

But the young fellow had no such desire. He merely thought that Clarisse
was charmingly pretty, and that it would be very nice to have her for
his aunt. But later, when they were thrown so much together, while
Father Rondic slept in the arm-chair and Zenaide sewed at the chateau,
these two natures were irresistibly attracted toward each other. But no
one had a right to make any invidious remark; they had, besides, always
watching over them a pair of frightfully suspicious eyes, those of
Zenaide. She had a way of interrupting their interviews, of appearing
suddenly, when least expected; and, however fatigued she might be by her
day's work, she took her seat in the chimney-corner with her knitting.
Zenaide, in fact, played the part of the jealous and suspicious husband.
Picture to yourself, if you please, a husband with all the instincts and
clearsightedness of a woman!

The warfare between herself and Chariot was incessant, and the little
outbursts served to conceal the real antipathy; but while Father Rondic
smiled contentedly, Clarisse turned pale as if at distant thunder.

Zenaide had triumphed: she had so managed at the chateau that the
Director had decided to send Chariot to Guerigny, to study a new model
of a machine there. Months would be necessary for him to perfect his
work. Clarisse understood very well that Zenaide was at the bottom
of this movement, but she was not altogether displeased at Chariot's
departure; she flung herself on Zenaide's stronger nature, and entreated
her protection.

Jack had understood for some time that between these two women there
was a secret. He loved them