oft blue eyes of Madame Regnault, and were so little in harmony
with her person and character as to have almost the effect of a discord
in music.

A year passed, and her heart was made glad by a dear little son, who was
named Leon for his father. The little fellow was six weeks old, and his
mother had scarcely left the nursery, which was a bit of heaven to her,
when Colonel Regnault startled her from her dream of bliss: "I have
found just the nurse for the baby, the wife of a small farmer who lives
close to Rosny Station. She will wean her child and take him. She is
such a fresh, healthy-looking woman, and everything is so clean and tidy
in her cottage, that you will be delighted with her, I am sure."

"Oh, Leon, may I not nurse him myself? I cannot give him up to anybody.
Who will take so good care of my little precious darling as his own
mother?"

"It is not to be thought of, Clemence: it would wear you out. See, you
are crying now: it shows how weak and nervous you are. Besides, Leonie
needs you. She is losing already, for nobody plays her accompaniments so
well as you, and I do not like to have her go to the Conservatoire with
a bonne when it can be helped: a girl so striking is likely to be
watched and followed. I never feel safe about her unless you are with
her. Don't be silly: the baby will be better off in the country."

Madame Regnault was very kind to Leonie: it was impossible for her to be
otherwise to any one. She was devoted to her for her father's sake: she
felt a thrill of delight in her beauty, in her wonderful talents; but
she did not love her. She might have loved her perhaps--though there was
not much in common between the ardent, high-spirited girl and the
gentle, patient woman, except, indeed, the taste for music--but it is
not in nature, and hardly in grace, for a woman thirsting for her
husband's love to like being always postponed to some one else. Colonel
Regnault seemed to have no perception of anything but his beautiful
daughter: his ambition was centred in her even more than his affection.
Leonie's talent developed rapidly, and his pride was fed by the praises
of her masters and the more flattering compliments of friends and
connoisseurs who were present at the musical soirees given from time to
time at his own house.

But Leonie did not contribute to the peace of the household. Her aunt
had not found it out, Madame Regnault never would have discovered it,
but her father's despotic will