oes for some
women--it seemed as if a sudden radiance surrounded her.

When she raised her infant in her arms, to show him to those who came
to see her, she always seemed like a most chaste and touching
representation of the Virgin Mother. She would say, as she exhibited
him: "Is he not superb?" Every one said: "Yes, indeed!" out of
politeness, but, on leaving the mother's presence, would generally
remark: "He is Monsieur de Talbrun in baby-clothes: the likeness is
perfectly horrible!"

The only visitor who made no secret of this impression was Jacqueline,
who came to see her cousin as soon as she was permitted--that is, as
soon as her friend was able to sit up and be prettily dressed, as became
the mother of such a little gentleman as the heir of all the Talbruns.
When Jacqueline saw the little creature half-smothered in the lace
that trimmed his pillows, she burst out laughing, though it was in the
presence of his mother.

"Oh, mon Dieu!" she cried, "how ugly! I never should have supposed we
could have been as ugly as that! Why, his face is all the colors of the
rainbow; who would have imagined it? And he crumples up his little face
like those things in gutta-percha. My poor Giselle, how can you bear to
show him! I never, never could covet a baby!"

Giselle, in consternation, asked herself whether this strange girl,
who did not care for children, could be a proper wife for Fred; but her
habitual indulgence came to her aid, and she thought:

"She is but a child herself, she does not know what she is saying," and
profiting by her first tete-a-tete with Jacqueline's stepmother, she
spoke as she had promised to Madame de Nailles.

"A matchmaker already!" said the Baroness, with a smile. "And so soon
after you have found out what it costs to be a mother! How good of you,
my dear Giselle! So you support Fred as a candidate? But I can't say I
think he has much chance; Monsieur de Nailles has his own ideas."

She spoke as if she really thought that M. de Nailles could have any
ideas but her own. When the adroit Clotilde was at a loss, she was
likely to evoke this chimerical notion of her husband's having an
opinion of his own.

"Oh! Madame, you can do anything you like with him!"

The clever woman sighed:

"So you fancy that when people have been long married a wife retains
as much influence over her husband as you have kept over Monsieur de
Talbrun? You will learn to know better, my dear."

"But I have no influ