s, neat silk _caraco_, plaid-patterned gown, with pagoda
sleeves, as she called them, and milk-white _manchettes_--her
_bottines_ from the Rue Vivienne, and her face from Paradise--could
reconcile many a harder heart than mine to greater incongruities. Our
arrangements being made, therefore, I sat down on a camp-stool, whilst
Penelope reclined on the grass; and I endeavoured to explain to her
the great advantages of a moderate constitutional government, with
checks, balances, and so forth. Although she yawned, I am sure it was
not from ennui, but in order to shew me her pretty pearly teeth.

M. Jerome and the princess came streaming back over the meadow--even
affected to scold me for having remained behind. They were evidently
on the best possible terms, and I took great satisfaction in
contemplating their happiness. Either my perspicacity was at fault,
however, or both had some secret cause of uneasiness that pressed upon
their minds as the day advanced. Had they been only betrayed into a
declaration and a plighting of their troth in a hurry? Did they
already repent? Did Madame de Mourairef regret the barbarous splendour
of her native land? Did M. Jerome begin to mourn over the delights of
bachelorship? These were the questions I put to myself without being
able to invent any satisfactory answer. The day passed, however,
pleasantly enough; and the caleche came in due time to take us back to
Blois.

Next morning, M. Jerome entered my room with a graceful bow, to
announce his departure for Paris, whither it was necessary for him to
go to obtain the necessary papers for his marriage, and Madame de
Mourairef, he added, accompanied him. I uttered the necessary
congratulations, and gave my address in Paris, that he might call upon
me as soon as he was settled in the hotel he proposed to take.

'I take two persons with me,' he said, smiling; 'but one of them
leaves her heart behind, I am afraid.'

This alluded to Penelope; but I was determined not to understand. I
went to say adieu to Madame de Mourairef, who seemed rather excited
and anxious. Penelope almost succeeded in wringing forth a tear; but I
did not think it was decreed that at my age I should really make love
to a Russian serf, however charming. So off they went to the railway
station, leaving me in a very dull, stupid, melancholy mood.

'What a fortunate man M. Jerome is!' said the garcon, as he came into
my room a few minutes afterwards.

'Yes,' I replied;