the little attentions with which he was petted; you might have thought

him a cherished lover, whose return brought joy to the household.
Mademoiselle foresaw the moment when the viscount wanted bread; she

watched his every look; when he turned his head she adroitly put upon
his plate a portion of some dish he seemed to like; had he been a

gourmand, she would almost have killed him; but what a delightful
specimen of the attentions she would show to a husband! She did not

commit the folly of depreciating herself; on the contrary, she set
every sail bravely, ran up all her flags, assumed the bearing of the

queen of Alencon, and boasted of her excellent preserves. In fact, she
fished for compliments in speaking of herself, for she saw that she

pleased the viscount; the truth being that her eager desire had so
transformed her that she became almost a woman.

At dessert she heard, not without emotions of delight, certain sounds
in the antechamber and salon which denoted the arrival of her usual

guests. She called the attention of her uncle and Monsieur de
Troisville to this prompt attendance as a proof of the affection that

was felt for her; whereas it was really the result of the poignant
curiosity which had seized upon the town. Impatient to show herself in

all her glory, Mademoiselle Cormon told Jacquelin to serve coffee and
liqueurs in the salon, where he presently set out, in view of the

whole company, a magnificent liqueur-stand of Dresden china which saw
the light only twice a year. This circumstance was taken note of by

the company, standing ready to gossip over the merest trifle:--
"The deuce!" muttered du Bousquier. "Actually Madame Amphoux's

liqueurs, which they only serve at the four church festivals!"
"Undoubtedly the marriage was arranged a year ago by letter," said the

chief-justice du Ronceret. "The postmaster tells me his office has
received letters postmarked Odessa for more than a year."

Madame Granson trembled. The Chevalier de Valois, though he had dined
with the appetite of four men, turned pale even to the left section of

his face. Feeling that he was about to betray himself, he said
hastily,--

"Don't you think it is very cold to-day? I am almost frozen."
"The neighborhood of Russia, perhaps," said du Bousquier.

The chevalier looked at him as if to say, "Well played!"
Mademoiselle Cormon appeared so radiant, so triumphant, that the

company thought her handsome. This extraordinary brilliancy was not
the effect of sentiment only. Since early morning her blood had been

whirling tempestuously within her, and her nerves were agitated by the
presentiment of some great crisis. It required all these circumstances

combined to make her so unlike herself. With what joy did she now make
her solemnpresentation of the viscount to the chevalier, the

chevalier to the viscount, and all Alencon to Monsieur de Troisville,
and Monsieur de Troisville to all Alencon!

By an accident wholly explainable, the viscount and chevalier,
aristocrats by nature, came instantly into unison; they recognized

each other at once as men belonging to the same sphere. Accordingly,
they began to converse together, standing before the fireplace. A

circle formed around them; and their conversation, though uttered in a
low voice, was listened to in religious silence. To give the effect of

this scene it is necessary to dramatize it, and to picture
Mademoiselle Cormon occupied in pouring out the coffee of her

imaginary suitor, with her back to the fireplace.
Monsieur de Valois. "Monsieur le vicomte has come, I am told, to

settle in Alencon?"
Monsieur de Troisville. "Yes, monsieur, I am looking for a house."

[Mademoiselle Cormon, cup in hand, turns round.] "It must be a large
house" [Mademoiselle Cormon offers him the cup] "to lodge my whole

family." [The eyes of the old maid are troubled.]
Monsieur de Valois. "Are you married?"

Monsieur de Troisville. "Yes, for the last sixteen years, to a
daughter of the Princess Scherbellof."

Mademoiselle Cormon fainted; du Bousquier, who saw her stagger, sprang
forward and received her in his arms; some one opened the door and

allowed him to pass out with his enormous burden. The fiery
republican, instructed by Josette, found strength to carry the old

maid to her bedroom, where he laid her out on the bed. Josette, armed
with scissors, cut the corset, which was terribly tight. Du Bousquier

flung water on Mademoiselle Cormon's face and bosom, which, released
from the corset, overflowed like the Loire in flood. The poor woman

opened her eyes, saw du Bousquier, and gave a cry of modesty at the
sight of him. Du Bousquier retired at once, leaving six women, at the

head of whom was Madame Granson, radiant with joy, to take care of the
invalid.

What had the Chevalier de Valois been about all this time? Faithful to
his system, he had covered the retreat.

"That poor Mademoiselle Cormon," he said to Monsieur de Troisville,
gazing at the assembly, whose laughter was repressed by his cool

aristocratic glances, "her blood is horribly out of order; she
wouldn't be bled before going to Prebaudet (her estate),--and see the

result!"
"She came back this morning in the rain," said the Abbe de Sponde,

"and she may have taken cold. It won't be anything; it is only a
little upset she is subject to."

"She told me yesterday she had not had one for three months, adding
that she was afraid it would play her a trick at last," said the

chevalier.
"Ha! so you are married?" said Jacquelin to himself as he looked at

Monsieur de Troisville, who was quietly sipping his coffee.
The faithful servant espoused his mistress's disappointment; he

divined it, and he promptly carried away the liqueurs of Madame
Amphoux, which were offered to a bachelor, and not to the husband of a

Russian woman.
All these details were noticed and laughed at. The Abbe de Sponde knew

the object of Monsieur de Troisville's journey; but, absent-minded as
usual, he forgot it, not supposing that his niece could have the

slightest interest in Monsieur de Troisville's marriage. As for the
viscount, preoccupied with the object of his journey, and, like many

husbands, not eager to talk about his wife, he had had no occasion to
say he was married; besides, he would naturally suppose that

Mademoiselle Cormon knew it.
Du Bousquier reappeared, and was questioned furiously. One of the six

women came down soon after, and announced that Mademoiselle Cormon was
much better, and that the doctor had come. She intended to stay in

bed, as it was necessary to bleed her. The salon was now full.
Mademoiselle Cormon's absence allowed the ladies present to discuss

the tragi-comic scene--embellished, extended, historified,
embroidered, wreathed, colored, and adorned--which had just taken

place, and which, on the morrow, was destined to occupy all Alencon.
"That good Monsieur du Bousquier! how well he carried you!" said

Josette to her mistress. "He was really pale at the sight of you; he
loves you still."

That speech served as closure to this solemn and terrible evening.
Throughout the morning of the next day every circumstance of the late

comedy was known in the household of Alencon, and--let us say it to
the shame of that town,--they caused inextinguishable laughter. But on

that day Mademoiselle Cormon (much benefited by the bleeding) would
have seemed sublime even to the boldest scoffers, had they witnessed

the noble dignity, the splendid Christian resignation which influenced
her as she gave her arm to her involuntary deceiver to go into

breakfast. Cruel jesters! why could you not have seen her as she said
to the viscount,--

"Madame de Troisville will have difficulty in finding a suitable
house; do me the favor, monsieur, of accepting the use of mine during

the time you are in search of yours."
"But, mademoiselle, I have two sons and two daughters; we should

greatly inconvenience you."
"Pray do not refuse me," she said earnestly.

"I made you the same offer in the answer I wrote to your letter," said
the abbe; "but you did not receive it."

"What, uncle! then you knew--"
The poor woman stopped. Josette sighed. Neither the viscount nor the

abbe observed anything amiss. After breakfast the Abbe de Sponde
carried off his guest, as agreed upon the previous evening, to show