n tiptoe without
anger or importunity. This morning, I called on Monsieur Petitbry, who
gave me detailed instructions as to the way I was to act, the hour,
place, witnesses. Ah! my dear Aunt, if you knew how frightened I am as
the hour draws near.

[Illustration: p121-132]

His violence is so dreadful. Even when he is gentle like yesterday, his
eyes have flashes of lightning. However, I will try and be courageous in
thinking of you, my darling Aunt. Besides, as Monsieur Petitbry said to
me, it is only a short painful moment to get over, and then we will both
resume our former quiet life, so calm and happy.

Nina de B.

[Illustration: p122-134]

[Illustration: p123-134]

_From the same to the same_.

Dear Aunt, I am writing to you from my bed, torn by the emotions of
that terrible scene. Who could have supposed that things would take this
turn? Nevertheless I had taken every precaution. I had warned Marthe and
her sister, who were to come at one o'clock, and I had chosen for the
great scene the moment when on leaving the table, the servants are
clearing away in the dining-room next to the study. From early morn
my plans were laid; an hour of scales and exercises on the piano, the
_Cloches du Monastere_, the _Reveries de Rosellen_, all the pieces
he hates. This did not prevent his working away without betraying the
slightest irritability. At breakfast, the same patience. A detestable
breakfast, scraps, and the sweet dishes he loathes. And if you had seen
my costume! A dress with a cape some five years out of date, a little
black silk apron, and uncurled hair! In vain I sought for some signs
of irritation, that well-known straight line that Monsieur hollows out
between his eyebrows at the least annoyance. Well no! nothing! Really I
might have thought they had changed my husband. He said to me in a calm
and rather sad tone:

"Ah, you have done your hair in the old way."

I hardly answered, not wishing to hurry on matters before my witnesses
had arrived, and then, strangely enough, I felt somewhat moved and upset
beforehand by the scene I was trying to get up. At last, after a few
still shorter replies on my part, he rose from the table and went into
his own room. I followed him trembling. I heard my friends stationing
themselves in the little drawing-room, and Pierre who came and went,
arranging the glasses and silver. The decisive moment had arrived. He
must now be brought to the needful point of violence, an