rived the fair Natalie and her friends. How difficult it
was now to look happy, with that pallid face and extinguished eye!

"How pale you are! Has anything happened? You are surely ill?" were
the exclamations that met him on all sides. He tried to carry it off
as well as he could, but felt that the movements he would have wished
to appear alert were only convulsive; and that the smiles with which
he attempted to relax his features, were but distorted grimaces.
However, the church was not the place for further inquiries; and while
Natalie gently pressed his hand in token of sympathy, they advanced
to the altar, and the ceremony was performed; after which they stepped
into the carriages waiting at the door, and drove to the apartments of
Madme. de Bellefonds, where an elegant _dejeuner_ was prepared.

"What ails you, my dear husband?" inquired Natalie, as soon as they
were alone.

"Nothing, love," he replied; "nothing. I assure you, but a restless
night and a little overwork, in order that I might have to-day free to
enjoy my happiness!"

"Are you quite sure? Is there nothing else?"

"Nothing, indeed; and pray don't take notice of it, it only makes me
worse!"

Natalie was not deceived, but she saw that what he said was true;
notice made him worse; so she contented herself with observing him
quietly, and saying nothing; but, as he _felt_ she was observing him,
she might almost better have spoken; words are often less embarrassing
things than too curious eyes.

When they reached Madame de Bellefonds' he had the same sort of
questioning and scrutiny to undergo, till he grew quite impatient
under it, and betrayed a degree of temper altogether unusual to him.
Then everybody looked astonished; some whispered their remarks, and
others expressed them by their wondering eyes, till his brow knit, and
his pallid cheeks became flushed with anger. Neither could he divert
attention by eating; his parched mouth would not allow him to swallow
anything but liquids, of which, however, he indulged in copious
libations; and it was an exceeding relief to him when the carriage,
which was to convey them to St. Denis, being announced, furnished
an excuse for hastily leaving the table. Looking at his watch, he
declared it was late; and Natalie, who saw how eager he was to be
gone, threw her shawl over her shoulders, and bidding her friends
_good morning_, they hurried away.

It was a fine sunny day in June; and, as they drove along the