isome. To her every thing about him was repulsive and
unpleasant. His most trifling actions, his way of eating, of taking
coffee, of talking, gave her umbrage and irritated her nerves. Except at
table, the pair scarcely saw or spoke to each other; but they dined
together several times a-week, and that sufficed to keep up the sort of
hatred Julie entertained towards her husband.

"As to Chaverny, he was rather a handsome man, a little too corpulent
for his time of life, with a fresh complexion, full-blooded, and by no
means subject to those vague uneasinesses which sometimes torment
persons of more intellectual organisation. Piously convinced that his
wife's sentiments towards him were those of tender friendship, the
conviction caused him neither pleasure nor pain. Had he known Julie's
feelings to be of an opposite nature, it would have made little
difference to his happiness. He had served several years in a cavalry
regiment, when he inherited a considerable fortune, became disgusted
with garrison life, resigned his commission, and took a wife. It seems
difficult to explain the marriage of two persons who had not an idea in
common. On the one hand, a number of those officious friends and
relations, who, as Phrosine says, would marry the republic of Venice to
the Grand Turk, had taken much pains to arrange it: on the other,
Chaverny was of good family; before his marriage he was not too fat; he
was gay and cheerful, and what is called a _good fellow_. Julie was glad
to see him at her mother's house, because he made her laugh with
anecdotes of his regiment, droll enough, if not always in the best
taste. She found him amiable, because he danced with her at every ball,
and was always ready with excellent reasons to persuade her mother to
remain late at theatre or party, or at the _Bois de Boulogne_. Finally,
she thought him a hero, because he had fought two or three creditable
duels. But what completed his triumph, was the description of a certain
carriage, to be built after a plan of his own, and in which he was to
drive Julie, as soon as she consented to become Madame de Chaverny.

"A few months of married life, and Chaverny's good qualities had lost
much of their merit. He no longer danced with his wife--that of course.
His funny stories had long been thrice told. He complained that balls
lasted too late; at the theatre he yawned; the custom of dressing for
the evening he found an insufferable bore. Laziness was his bane