allet. Sulpice smiled.

"Thanks!" he said. "We have just been dealing with that. I prefer
truffles, they are more savory."

Through the flowers, Adrienne could see her husband who was seated
opposite to her beside Madame Gerson. She conversed but little with Guy
de Lissac, who was sitting on her right, although the formalities of the
occasion would have suggested that Monsieur le Senator Crepeau and
Monsieur de Prangins, the deputy, should have been so placed. Madame
Gerson, however, had remarked with a smile, that Madame Vaudrey would
not feel annoyed at having Monsieur de Lissac for her neighbor. "I have
often met Monsieur de Lissac at the ministry; he is received noticeably
well there."

Not knowing any one among the guests, Adrienne was, in fact, charmed to
have Guy next to her. He was decidedly pleasing to her with his sallies,
his skepticism which, as she thought, covered more belief than he wished
to disclose. For a long time, he had felt himself entirely captivated by
her cheerful modesty and the grace of her exquisite purity. She was so
vastly different from all the other women whom he had known. How the
devil could Vaudrey bring himself to neglect so perfect a creature, who
was more attractive in her fascinating virtue than all the damsels to be
met with in society, among the demi-monde, or those of a still lower
grade? For Vaudrey remained indifferent to Adrienne; and this was a
further and manifest blow. A specialist in matters of observation like
Guy was not to be deceived therein. Madame Vaudrey had not yet
complained, but she was already suffering. Was it merely politics, or
was it some woman who was taking her husband from Adrienne? Guy did not
know, but he would know. The pretty Madame Vaudrey interested him.

"If that idiot Sulpice were not my friend, I would make love to her.
Besides," he said to himself, as he looked at Adrienne's lovely, limpid
eyes, "I should fail; there are some lakes whose tranquillity cannot be
disturbed."

Adrienne, pleased to have him beside her, enquired of him the names of
the guests. On the left of Madame Gerson sat a little, broad-backed man,
with black hair pasted over his temples, long leg-of-mutton whiskers
decorating his bright-colored cheeks, and a keen eye: he was Monsieur
Jouvenet, formerly an advocate; to-day Prefect of Police.

Senator Crepeau sat further away. He was a fat manufacturer, who talked
about alimentary products and politics. In the _Analytical T