"You are very merry here," said he, seeing that the Baron shed a
spirit of animation on the little family gathering. "And yet Hortense
is not married," he added, noticing a trace of melancholy on his
sister-in-law's countenance.

"That will come all in good time," Lisbeth shouted in his ear in a
formidable voice.

"So there you are, you wretched seedling that could never blossom,"
said he, laughing.

The hero of Forzheim rather liked Cousin Betty, for there were certain
points of resemblance between them. A man of the ranks, without any
education, his courage had been the sole mainspring of his military
promotion, and sound sense had taken the place of brilliancy. Of the
highest honor and clean-handed, he was ending a noble life in full
contentment in the centre of his family, which claimed all his
affections, and without a suspicion of his brother's still
undiscovered misconduct. No one enjoyed more than he the pleasing
sight of this family party, where there never was the smallest
disagreement, for the brothers and sisters were all equally attached,
Celestine having been at once accepted as one of the family. But the
worthy little Count wondered now and then why Monsieur Crevel never
joined the party. "Papa is in the country," Celestine shouted, and it
was explained to him that the ex-perfumer was away from home.

This perfect union of all her family made Madame Hulot say to herself,
"This, after all, is the best kind of happiness, and who can deprive
us of it?"

The General, on seeing his favorite Adeline the object of her
husband's attentions, laughed so much about it that the Baron, fearing
to seem ridiculous, transferred his gallantries to his
daughter-in-law, who at these family dinners was always the object of
his flattery and kind care, for he hoped to win Crevel back through
her, and make him forego his resentment.

Any one seeing this domestic scene would have found it hard to believe
that the father was at his wits' end, the mother in despair, the son
anxious beyond words as to his father's future fate, and the daughter
on the point of robbing her cousin of her lover.

At seven o'clock the Baron, seeing his brother, his son, the Baroness,
and Hortense all engaged at whist, went off to applaud his mistress at
the Opera, taking with him Lisbeth Fischer, who lived in the Rue du
Doyenne, and who always made an excuse of the solitude of that
deserted quarter to take herself off as soon as dinner wa