e, and contented with her lot.

He was one evening in his orchestra-stall at the opera. They were
singing The Huguenots. The Marquise occupied her box between the
columns. The numerous acquaintances Camors met in the passages during
the first entr'acte prevented his going as soon as usual to pay his
respects to his cousin. At last, after the fourth act, he went to visit
her in her box, where he found her alone, the General having descended
to the parterre for a few moments. He was astonished, on entering, to
find traces of tears on the young woman's cheeks. Her eyes were even
moist. She seemed displeased at being surprised in the very act of
sentimentality.

"Music always excites my nerves," she said.

"Indeed!" said Camors. "You, who always reproach me with hiding my
merits, why do you hide yours? If you are still capable of weeping, so
much the better."

"No! I claim no merit for that. Oh, heavens! If you only knew! It is
quite the contrary."

"What a mystery you are!"

"Are you very curious to fathom this mystery? Only that? Very well--be
happy! It is time to put an end to this."

She drew her chair from the front of the box out of public view, and,
turning toward Camors, continued: "You wish to know what I am, what I
feel, and what I think; or rather, you wish to know simply whether I
dream of love? Very well, I dream only of that! Have I lovers, or have I
not? I have none, and never shall have, but that will not be because
of my virtue. I believe in nothing, except my own self-esteem and my
contempt of others. The little intrigues, the petty passions, which I
see in the world, make me indignant to the bottom of my soul. It
seems to me that women who give themselves for so little must be base
creatures. As for myself, I remember having said to you one day--it is a
million years since then!--that my person is sacred to me; and to commit
a sacrilege I should wish, like the vestals of Rome, a love as great
as my crime, and as terrible as death. I wept just now during that
magnificent fourth act. It was not because I listened to the most
marvellous music ever heard on this earth; it was because I admire and
envy passionately the superb and profound love of that time. And it is
ever thus--when I read the history of the glorious sixteenth century, I
am in ecstacies. How well those people knew how to love and how to die!
One night of love--then death. That is delightful. Now, cousin, you must
leave me. We are obse