have seen the 'new art' in other countries, but it is not so ugly as with us;
it has fancy and it has simplicity. It is only in our own country that by a

sad privilege we may behold the newest and most diverse styles of
architectural ugliness. Not an enviable privilege!"

"Are you not afraid," asked M. Ceres severely, "are you not afraid that these
bitter criticisms tend to keep out of our capital the foreigners who flow into

it from all arts of the world and who leave millions behind them?"
"You may set your mind at rest about that," answered M. Daniset. "Foreigners

do not come to admire our buildings; they come to see our courtesans, our
dressmakers, and our dancing saloons."

"We have one bad habit," sighed M. Ceres, "it is that we calumniate
ourselves."

Madame Clarence as an accomplishedhostess thought it was time to return to
the subject of love and asked M. Jumel his opinion of M. Leon Blum's recent

book in which the author complained. . . .
". . . That an irrational custom," went on Professor Haddock, "prevents

respectable young ladies from making love, a thing they would enjoy doing,
whilst mercenary girls do it too much and without getting any enjoyment out of

it. It is indeed deplorable. But M. Leon Blum need not fret too much. If the
evil exists, as he says it does, in our middle-class society, I can assure him

that everywhere else he would see a consoling spectacle. Among the people, the
mass of the people through town and country, girls do not deny themselves that

pleasure."
"It is depravity!" said Madame Cremeur.

And she praised the innocence of young girls in terms full of modesty and
grace. It was charming to hear her.

Professor Haddock's views on the same subject were, on the contrary, painful
to listen to.

"Respectable young girls," said he, "are guarded and watched over. Besides,
men do not, as a rule, pursue them much, either through probity, or from a

fear of grave responsibilities, or because the seduction of a young girl would
not be to their credit. Even then we do not know what really takes place, for

the reason that what is hidden is not seen. This is a condition necessary to
the existence of all society. The scruples of respectable young girls could be

more easily overcome than those of married women if the same pressure were
brought to bear on them, and for this there are two reasons: they have more

illusions, and their curiosity has not been satisfied. Women, for the most
part, have been so disappointed by their husbands that they have not courage

enough to begin again with somebody else. I myself have been met by this
obstacle several times in my attempts at seduction."

At the moment when Professor Haddock ended his unpleasant remarks,
Mademoiselle Eveline Clarence entered the drawing-room and listlessly handed

about tea with that expression of boredom which gave an oriental charm to her
beauty.

"For my part," said Hippolyte Ceres, looking at her, "I declare myself the
young ladies' champion."

"He must be a fool," thought the girl.
Hippolyte Ceres, who had never set foot outside of his political world of

electors and elected, thought Madame Clarence's drawing-room most select, its
mistress exquisite, and her daughter amazingly beautiful. His visits became

frequent and he paid court to both of them. Madame Clarence, who now liked
attention, thought him agreeable. Eveline showed no friendliness towards him,

and treated him with a hauteur and disdain that he took for aristocratic
behaviour and fashionable manners, and he thought all the more of her on that

account. This busy man taxed his ingenuity to please them, and he sometimes
succeeded. He got them cards for fashionable functions and boxes at the Opera.

He furnished Mademoiselle Clarence with several opportunities of appearing to
great advantage and in particular at a garden party which, although given by a

Minister, was regarded as really fashionable, and gained its first success in
society circles for the Republic.

At that party Eveline had been much noticed and had attracted the special
attention of a young diplomat called Roger Lambilly who, imagining that she

belonged to a rather fast set, invited her to his bachelor's flat. She thought
him handsome and believed him rich, and she accepted. A little moved, almost

disquieted, she very nearly became the victim of her daring, and only avoided
defeat by an offensivemeasure audaciously carried out. This was the most

foolish escapade in her unmarried life.
Being now on friendly terms with Ministers and with the President, Eveline

continued to wear her aristocratic and pious affectations, and these won for
her the sympathy of the chief personages in the anti-clerical and democratic

Republic. M. Hippolyte Ceres, seeing that she was succeeding and doing him
credit, liked her still more. He even went so far as to fall madly in love

with her.
Henceforth, in spite of everything, she began to observe him with interest,

being curious to see if his passion would increase. He appeared to her without
elegance or grace, and not well bred, but active, clear-sighted, full of

resource, and not too great a bore. She still made fun of him, but he had now
won her interest.

One day she wished to test him. It was during the elections, when members of
Parliament were, as the phrase runs, requesting a renewal of their mandates.

He had an opponent, who, though not dangerous at first and not much of an
orator, was rich and was reported to be gaining votes every day. Hippolyte

Ceres, banishing both dull security and foolish alarm from his mind, redoubled
his care. His chief method of action was by public meetings at which he spoke

vehemently against the rival candidate. His committee held huge meetings on
Saturday evenings and at three o'clock on Sunday afternoons. One Sunday, as he

called on the Clarences, he found Eveline alone in the drawing-room. He had
been chatting for about twenty or twenty-five minutes, when, taking out his

watch, he saw that it was a quarter to three. The young girl showed herself
amiable, engaging, attractive, and full of promises. Ceres was fascinated, but

he stood up to go.
"Stay a little longer," said she in a pressing and agreeable voice which made

him promptly sit down again.
She was full of interest, of abandon, curiosity, and weakness. He blushed,

turned pale, and again got up.
Then, in order to keep him still longer, she looked at him out of two grey and

melting eyes, and though her bosom was heaving, she did not say another word.
He fell at her feet in distraction,, but once more looking at his watch, he

jumped up with a terrible oath.
"D--! a quarter to four! I must be off."

And immediately he rushed down the stairs.
From that time onwards she had a certain amount of esteem for him.

IV. A POLITICIAN'S MARRIAGE
She was not quite in love with him, but she wished him to be in love with her.

She was, moreover, very reserved with him, and that not solely from any want
of inclination to be otherwise, since in affairs of love some things are due

to indifference, to inattention, to woman's instinct, to traditional custom
and feeling, to a desire to try one's power, and to satisfaction at seeing its

results. The reason of her prudence was that she knew him to be very much
infatuated and capable of takingadvantage of any familiarities she allowed as

well as of reproaching her coarsely afterwards if she discontinued them.
As he was a professed anti-clerical and free-thinker, she thought it a good

plan to affect an appearance of piety in his presence and to be seen with
prayer-books bound in red morocco, such as Queen Marie Leczinska's or the

Dauphiness Marie Josephine's "The Last Two Weeks of Lent." She lost no
opportunity, either, of showing him the subscriptions that she collected for

the endowment of the national cult of St. Orberosia. Eveline did not act in
this way because she wished to tease him. Nor did it spring from a young

girl's archness, or a spirit of constraint, or even from snobbishness, though
there was more than a suspicion of this latter in her behaviour. It was but

her way of asserting herself, of stamping herself with a definite character,
of increasing her value. To rouse the Deputy's courage she wrapped herself up

in religion, just as Brunhild surrounded herself with flames so as to attract
Sigurd. Her audacity was successful. He thought her still more beautiful thus.

Clericalism was in his eyes a sign of good form.
Ceres was re-elected by an enormous majority and returned to a House which

showed itself more inclined to the Left, more advanced, and, as it seemed,
more eager for reform than its predecessor. Perceiving at once that so much

zeal was but intended to hide a fear of change, and a sincere desire to do
nothing, he determined to adopt a policy that would satisfy these aspirations.

At the beginning of the session he made a great speech, cleverly thought out
and well arranged, dealing with the idea that all reform ought to be put off

for a long time. He showed himself heated, even fervid; holding the principle
that an orator should recommendmoderation with extremevehemence. He was

applauded by the entire assembly. The Clarences listened to him from the
President's box and Eveline trembled in spite of herself at the solemn sound

of the applause. On the same bench the fair Madame Pensee shivered at the
intonations of his virile voice.

As soon as he descended from the tribune, Ceres, even while the audience were
still clapping, went without a moment's delay to salute the Clarences in their

box. Eveline saw in him the beauty of success, and as he leaned towards the