her into her carriage. It frequently happened that Marie, who
by this time had launched him into the great world, procured for him
invitations to dinner in certain houses where she went herself. All this
seemed the simplest life in the world to her. Raoul moved by pride and
led on by his passion never told her of his labors. He obeyed the will
of this innocent sovereign, followed in her train, followed, also, the
parliamentary debates, edited and wrote for his newspaper, and put upon
the stage two plays, the money for which was absolutely indispensable
to him. It sufficed for Madame de Vandenesse to make a little face of
displeasure when he tried to excuse himself from attending a ball, a
concert, or from driving in the Bois, to compel him to sacrifice his
most pressing interests to her good pleasure. When he left society
between one and two in the morning he went straight to work until eight
or nine. He was scarcely asleep before he was obliged to be up and
concocting the opinions of his journal with the men of political
influence on whom he depended,--not to speak of the thousand and one
other details of the paper. Journalism is connected with everything in
these days; with industrial concerns, with public and private interests,
with all new enterprises, and all the schemes of literature, its
self-loves, and its products.

When Nathan, harassed and fatigued, would rush from his editorial office
to the theatre, from the theatre to the Chamber, from the Chamber to
face certain creditors, he was forced to appear in the Bois with a calm
countenance, and gallop beside Marie's carriage in the leisurely style
of a man devoid of cares and with no other duties than those of love.
When in return for this toilsome and wholly ignored devotion all he won
were a few sweet words, the prettiest assurances of eternal attachment,
ardent pressures of the hand on the very few occasions when they found
themselves alone, he began to feel he was rather duped by leaving
his mistress in ignorance of the enormous costs of these "little
attentions," as our fathers called them. The occasion for an explanation
arrived in due time.

On a fine April morning the countess accepted Nathan's arm for a walk
through the sequestered path of the Bois de Boulogne. She intended to
make him one of those pretty little quarrels apropos of nothing, which
women are so fond of exciting. Instead of greeting him as usual, with
a smile upon her lips, her forehead il