ir,
and graver than usual in this locality.

The church slowly filled. A flood of sunlight entered by the huge
doorway lit up the front row of guests. In the choir, which looked
somewhat gloomy, the altar, laden with tapers, shed a yellow light, pale
and humble in face of that of the main entrance. People recognized one
another, beckoned to one another, and gathered in groups. The men of
letters, less respectful than the men in society, chatted in low tones
and looked at the ladies.

Norbert de Varenne, who was looking out for an acquaintance, perceived
Jacques Rival near the center of the rows of chair, and joined him.
"Well," said he, "the race is for the cunning."

The other, who was not envious, replied: "So much the better for him.
His career is safe." And they began to point out the people they
recognized.

"Do you know what became of his wife?" asked Rival.

The poet smiled. "Yes, and no. She is living in a very retired style, I
am told, in the Montmartre district. But--there is a but--I have noticed
for some time past in the _Plume_ some political articles terribly like
those of Forestier and Du Roy. They are by Jean Le Dal, a handsome,
intelligent young fellow, of the same breed as our friend George, and
who has made the acquaintance of his late wife. From whence I conclude
that she had, and always will have, a fancy for beginners. She is,
besides, rich. Vaudrec and Laroche-Mathieu were not assiduous visitors
at the house for nothing."

Rival observed: "She is not bad looking, Madeleine. Very clever and very
sharp. She must be charming on terms of intimacy. But, tell me, how is
it that Du Roy comes to be married in church after a divorce?"

Norbert replied: "He is married in church because, in the eyes of the
Church, he was not married before."

"How so?"

"Our friend, Pretty-boy, from indifference or economy, thought the
registrar sufficient when marrying Madeleine Forestier. He therefore
dispensed with the ecclesiastical benediction, which constituted in the
eyes of Holy Mother Church a simple state of concubinage. Consequently
he comes before her to-day as a bachelor, and she lends him all her pomp
and ceremony, which will cost Daddy Walter a pretty penny."

The murmur of the augmented throng swelled beneath the vaulted room.
Voices could be heard speaking almost out loud. People pointed out to
one another celebrities who attitudinized, pleased to be seen, and
carefully maintained the bearing ad