ys the happiness of the most admirable
households. Have you heard of the distressing case of the de
Blanchets--Victor de Blanchet and his wife?"

We had not.

"Very dear friends of mine," said Madame Marcot vivaciously, delighted
at the chance of an uninterrupted innings, "and belonging to a family
of the most distinguished. They were a truly devoted couple, and had
never been apart during the whole of their married life. As for
him, he was an excellent fellow. If he had a fault, it was only that
perhaps he was a little near; but still, a good fault, is it not? When
he was called to the Front his wife was desolated, simply desolated.
And then, poor M. de Blanchet--_not_ the figure for a soldier--of a
rotundity, Mesdames!" And Madame Marcot lifted her eyes heavenwards,
struck speechless for a moment at the thought of M. de Blanchet's
outline. "However, like all good Frenchmen, he made no fuss, but went
off to do his duty. He wrote to his wife every day, and she wrote to
him.

"All at once his letters ceased, and then, after a long delay, came
the official notice, 'Missing.' Imagine the suspense, the anxiety! For
weeks she continued to hope against hope, but at last she heard that
his body had been found. It had been recognised by the clothes, the
identity disc (or whatever you call it), and the stoutness, for, alas,
the unfortunate gentleman's head had been nearly blown away by a shell
and was quite unrecognisable. Poor Madame de Blanchet's grief was
terrible to witness when they brought her his sad clothing, with the
embroidered initials upon it worked by her own hand. One thing she
insisted on, and that was that his body should be buried at A----, in
the family vault of the de Blanchets, who, as I have said before, are
very distinguished people. "This meant endless red tape, as you may
imagine, and endless correspondence with the authorities, and delays
and vexations, but finally she got her wish, and the funeral was the
most magnificent ever witnessed in that part of the world. You should
have seen the '_faire part_,'" said Madame Marcot, alluding to the
black-bordered mourning intimations sent out in France, inscribed with
the names of every individual member of the family concerned, from the
greatest down to the most insignificant and obscure. "Several pages, I
assure you; and everybody came. The cortege was a mile long. M. l'Abbe
Colaix officiated; there was a full choral mass; and she got her
second cousin onc