ney; and so effectually, that,
on his son's marriage two years previously, the Baron had been
compelled to explain to his wife that his pay constituted their whole
income.

"What shall we come to?" asked Adeline.

"Be quite easy," said the official, "I will leave the whole of my
salary in your hands, and I will make a fortune for Hortense, and some
savings for the future, in business."

The wife's deep belief in her husband's power and superior talents, in
his capabilities and character, had, in fact, for the moment allayed
her anxiety.

What the Baroness' reflections and tears were after Crevel's departure
may now be clearly imagined. The poor woman had for two years past
known that she was at the bottom of a pit, but she had fancied herself
alone in it. How her son's marriage had been finally arranged she had
not known; she had known nothing of Hector's connection with the
grasping Jewess; and, above all, she hoped that no one in the world
knew anything of her troubles. Now, if Crevel went about so ready to
talk of the Baron's excesses, Hector's reputation would suffer. She
could see, under the angry ex-perfumer's coarse harangue, the odious
gossip behind the scenes which led to her son's marriage. Two
reprobate hussies had been the priestesses of this union planned at
some orgy amid the degrading familiarities of two tipsy old sinners.

"And has he forgotten Hortense!" she wondered.

"But he sees her every day; will he try to find her a husband among
his good-for-nothing sluts?"

At this moment it was the mother that spoke rather than the wife, for
she saw Hortense laughing with her Cousin Betty--the reckless laughter
of heedless youth; and she knew that such hysterical laughter was
quite as distressing a symptom as the tearful reverie of solitary
walks in the garden.

Hortense was like her mother, with golden hair that waved naturally,
and was amazingly long and thick. Her skin had the lustre of
mother-of-pearl. She was visibly the offspring of a true marriage, of
a pure and noble love in its prime. There was a passionate vitality in
her countenance, a brilliancy of feature, a full fount of youth, a
fresh vigor and abundance of health, which radiated from her with
electric flashes. Hortense invited the eye.

When her eye, of deep ultramarine blue, liquid with the moisture of
innocent youth, rested on a passer-by, he was involuntarily thrilled.
Nor did a single freckle mar her skin, such as those with whi