t wish him to be able to play the fool. If he is ambitious, this small
income will give him a taste for work.--Eugenie is a girl; she must have
a little fortune."

The father then turned to play with his boy, whose effusive affection
showed the independence and freedom in which he was brought up. No sort
of shyness between the father and child interfered with the charm which
rewards a parent for his devotion; and the cheerfulness of the little
family was as sweet as it was genuine. In the evening a magic-lantern
displayed its illusions and mysterious pictures on a white sheet
to Charles' great surprise, and more than once the innocent child's
heavenly rapture made Caroline and Roger laugh heartily.

Later, when the little boy was in bed, the baby woke and craved its
limpid nourishment. By the light of a lamp in the chimney corner, Roger
enjoyed the scene of peace and comfort, and gave himself up to the
happiness of contemplating the sweet picture of the child clinging to
Caroline's white bosom as she sat, as fresh as a newly opened lily,
while her hair fell in long brown curls that almost hid her neck. The
lamplight enhanced the grace of the young mother, shedding over her,
her dress, and the infant, the picturesque effects of strong light and
shadow.

The calm and silent woman's face struck Roger as a thousand times
sweeter than ever, and he gazed tenderly at the rosy, pouting lips
from which no harsh word had ever been heard. The very same thought was
legible in Caroline's eyes as she gave a sidelong look at Roger, either
to enjoy the effect she was producing on him, or to see what the end
of the evening was to be. He, understanding the meaning of this cunning
glance, said with assumed regret, "I must be going. I have a serious
case to be finished, and I am expected at home. Duty before all
things--don't you think so, my darling?"

Caroline looked him in the face with an expression at once sad and
sweet, with the resignation which does not, however, disguise the pangs
of a sacrifice.

"Good-bye, then," said she. "Go, for if you stay an hour longer I cannot
so lightly bear to set you free."

"My dearest," said he with a smile, "I have three days' holiday, and am
supposed to be twenty leagues away from Paris."

A few days after this anniversary of the 6th of May, Mademoiselle de
Bellefeuille hurried off one morning to the Rue Saint-Louis, in the
Marais, only hoping she might not arrive too late at a house wh