again.

"Have you been speaking, my dear?" asked Adeline, seeing him with an
anxious brow.

"No," replied Hector, "but I am worn out with hearing others speak for
two hours without coming to a vote. They carry on a war of words, in
which their speeches are like a cavalry charge which has no effect on
the enemy. Talk has taken the place of action, which goes very much
against the grain with men who are accustomed to marching orders, as
I said to the Marshal when I left him. However, I have enough of
being bored on the ministers' bench; here I may play.--How do, la
Chevre!--Good morning, little kid," and he took his daughter round the
neck, kissed her, and made her sit on his knee, resting her head on his
shoulder, that he might feel her soft golden hair against his cheek.

"He is tired and worried," said his wife to herself. "I shall only worry
him more.--I will wait.--Are you going to be at home this evening?" she
asked him.

"No, children. After dinner I must go out. If it had not been the day
when Lisbeth and the children and my brother come to dinner, you would
not have seen me at all."

The Baroness took up the newspaper, looked down the list of theatres,
and laid it down again when she had seen that Robert _le Diable_ was
to be given at the Opera. Josepha, who had left the Italian Opera six
months since for the French Opera, was to take the part of Alice.

This little pantomime did not escape the Baron, who looked hard at
his wife. Adeline cast down her eyes and went out into the garden; her
husband followed her.

"Come, what is it, Adeline?" said he, putting his arm round her waist
and pressing her to his side. "Do not you know that I love you more
than----"

"More than Jenny Cadine or Josepha!" said she, boldly interrupting him.

"Who put that into your head?" exclaimed the Baron, releasing his wife,
and starting back a step or two.

"I got an anonymous letter, which I burnt at once, in which I was told,
my dear, that the reason Hortense's marriage was broken off was the
poverty of our circumstances. Your wife, my dear Hector, would never
have said a word; she knew of your connection with Jenny Cadine, and did
she ever complain?--But as the mother of Hortense, I am bound to speak
the truth."

Hulot, after a short silence, which was terrible to his wife, whose
heart beat loud enough to be heard, opened his arms, clasped her to his
heart, kissed her forehead, and said with the vehemence of enthusiasm