that he had always had a leaning), and
dispensed him from the duty of following a mania like his ancestors.

At the close of this year, the mind and the manners of Balthazar Claes
underwent a fatal change,--a change which began so gradually that at
first Madame Claes did not think it necessary to inquire the cause. One
night her husband went to bed with a mind so preoccupied that she felt
it incumbent on her to respect his mood. Her womanly delicacy and her
submissive habits always led her to wait for Balthazar's confidence;
which, indeed, was assured to her by so constant an affection that she
had never had the slightest opening for jealousy. Though certain of
obtaining an answer whenever she should make the inquiry, she still
retained enough of the earlier impressions of her life to dread a
refusal. Besides, the moral malady of her husband had its phases, and
only came by slow degrees to the intolerable point at which it destroyed
the happiness of the family.

However occupied Balthazar Claes might be, he continued for several
months cheerful, affectionate, and ready to talk; the change in his
character showed itself only by frequent periods of absent-mindedness.
Madame Claes long hoped to hear from her husband himself the nature of
the secret employment in which he was engaged; perhaps, she thought, he
would reveal it when it developed some useful result; many men are led
by pride to conceal the nature of their efforts, and only make them
known at the moment of success. When the day of triumph came, surely
domestic happiness would return, more vivid than ever when Balthazar
became aware of this chasm in the life of love, which his heart would
surely disavow. Josephine knew her husband well enough to be certain
that he would never forgive himself for having made his Pepita less than
happy during several months.

She kept silence therefore, and felt a sort of joy in thus suffering by
him for him: her passion had a tinge of that Spanish piety which allows
no separation between religion and love, and believes in no sentiment
without suffering. She waited for the return of her husband's affection,
saying daily to herself, "To-morrow it may come,"--treating her
happiness as though it were an absent friend.

During this stage of her secret distress, she conceived her last child.
Horrible crisis, which revealed a future of anguish! In the midst of
her husband's abstractions love showed itself on this occasion an
abstract