ollowed by Marechal and Suzanne, came
briskly up the steps.

"Oh, aunt, it is not fair," said the dandy. "If you have come here
to monopolize Micheline, you will be sent back to Paris. We want a
vis-a-vis for a quadrille. Come, Princess, it is delightfully cool
outside, and I am sure you will enjoy it."

"Monsieur Le Brede has gathered some oranges, and is trying to play
at cup and ball with them on his nose, while his friend, Monsieur du
Tremblay, jealous of his success, talks of illuminating the trees with
bowls of punch," said Marechal.

"And what is Serge doing?" inquired Micheline, smiling.

"He is talking to my wife on the terrace," said Cayrol, appearing in the
gallery.

The young people went off and were lost in the darkness. Madame
Desvarennes looked at Cayrol. He was happy and calm. There was no trace
of his former jealousy. During the six months which had elapsed since
his marriage, the banker had observed his wife closely, her actions, her
words: nothing had escaped him. He had never found her at fault. Thus,
reassured, he had given her his confidence and this time forever. Jeanne
was adorable; he loved her more than ever. She seemed very much changed
to him. Her disposition, formerly somewhat harsh, had softened, and the
haughty, capricious girl had become a mild, demure, and somewhat
serious woman. Unable to read his companion's thoughts, Cayrol sincerely
believed that he had been unnecessarily anxious, and that Jeanne's
troubles had only been passing fancies. He took credit of the change in
his wife to himself, and was proud of it.

"Cayrol, oblige me by removing that lamp; it hurts my eyes," said Madame
Desvarennes, anxious that the traces on her face, caused by her late
discussion with her daughter, should not be visible. "Then ask Jeanne to
come here for a few minutes. I have something to say to her."

"Certainly," said Cayrol, taking the lamp off the table and carrying it
into the adjoining room.

Darkness did Madame Desvarennes good. It refreshed her mind and calmed
her brow. The noise of dancing reached her. She commenced thinking. So
it had vainly tried to prove to her that a life of immoderate pleasure
was not conducive to happiness. The young wife had stopped her ears so
that she might not hear, and closed her eyes that she might not see. Her
mother asked herself if she did not exaggerate the evil. Alas! no. She
saw that she was not mistaken. Examining the society around her, men and
wo