ing at him, but even in the darkness, which was now that
of a starlit summer evening, Marcelline could see the slight start and
change of expression with which he heard her. He said nothing, however,
but kissed her hand with as much gallantry as though he was still
_faisant la cour_ to "mademoiselle," and they all passed into the
dining-room together. This, as was the custom in all such houses, was
also the common sitting-room of the family, or rather, when the weather
was too cold to sit on the galleries and they had occasion to leave
their bedrooms, it was here they met. As a rule, the women invariably
occupied their sleeping apartments, and never thought of leaving them
except for the open gallery or at meal-times. Here they received their
friends, sewed, embroidered, gossiped and told their beads. Two large
double beds were the ordinary complement of each room, and, what with
large family connections and frequent visitors, it was rare indeed to
find one not in use. Owing to this habit on the part of the women, and
the fact that no Creole planter ever spent two consecutive minutes in
his house during the daytime if he could possibly help it, the
dining-room was as dreary a spot as could be imagined. A long, narrow
table covered with oilcloth and surmounted by a huge punkah, a number of
straight wooden chairs and a square red cupboard comprised all the
furniture, the whole dimly lighted by two candles. The Cherbuliez
family, however, as they sat down to supper, seemed to feel no
deficiency, and ate and drank merrily, especially when Madame Volmont's
three children came in and were bountifully helped to everything on the
table, including ripe figs, cucumbers, melons and gumbo _choux_. As they
were all lingering over the table and wondering why Alphege did not
come in, he suddenly appeared, looking very pale and tired. Without
stopping even to say "Good-evening," he passed directly through into the
room beyond, where Madame Hypolite was lying, and was heard questioning
Marcelline rapidly as to his patient's condition. When he at last sat
down to his supper he looked like a man overworked bodily indeed, but
with a great weight suddenly removed from his mind; and Clothilde, who
was an _enfant gatee_ to him as to others, exclaimed joyfully, "Oh,
Alphege, maman is really better--elle va se guerir, elle est hors de
danger, n'est ce pas?" And she came behind him and put her arms round
his neck as he tried to eat, and gave him a