rofuse, shining, silken dark-brown hair she
wore as nature intended, in a shower of curls, never touched by the hand
of the coiffeur,--curls which clustered over her brow, and fell far down
on her shapely neck. Her features were fine; the eyes very dark, and the
mouth very red; the complexion clear and rather pale, and the style of
the face and its expression lofty. When Berthe Alix was a child, people
were accustomed to say she was pretty and refined enough to belong to
the aristocracy; nobody would have dared to say so now, prettiness and
refinement, together with all the other virtues admitted to a place on
the patriotic roll, having become national property.

Berthe loved her father dearly. She was deeply impressed with the sense
of her supreme importance to him, and fully comprehended that he would
be influenced by and through her when all other persuasion or argument
would be unavailing. When Prosper Alix wished and intended to do
anything rather mean or selfish, he did it without letting Berthe know;
and when he wished to leave undone something which he knew his daughter
would decide ought to be done, he carefully concealed from her the
existence of the dilemma. Nevertheless, this system did not prevent the
father and daughter being very good and even confidential friends.
Prosper Alix loved his daughter immeasurably, and respected her more
than he respected any one in the world. With regard to her persevering
religiousness, when such things were not only out of fashion and date,
but illegal as well, he was very tolerant. Of course it was weak, and an
absurdity; but every woman, even his beautiful, incomparable Berthe, was
weak and absurd on some point or other; and, after all, he had come to
the conclusion that the safest weakness with which a woman can be
afflicted is that romantic and ridiculous _faiblesse_ called piety. So
these two lived a happy life together, Berthe's share of it being very
secluded, and were wonderfully little troubled by the turbulence with
which society was making its tumultuous way to the virtuous serenity of
republican perfection.

The communication announcing the project of the _ci-devant_ Marquis for
the secure exportation of his nephew, and containing the skilful appeal
before mentioned, grievously disturbed the tranquillity of Prosper, and
was precisely one of those incidents which he would especially have
liked to conceal from his daughter. But he could not do so; the appeal
was