ngs which she thinks exceedingly
flattering, but which cause a sagacious husband to make a wry face.

"Adolphe has been delightful for some time past. I don't know what I
have done to deserve so much attention, but he overpowers me. He gives
value to everything by those delicate ways which have such an effect
upon us women. After taking me Monday to the _Rocher de Cancale_ to
dine, he declared that Very was as good a cook as Borrel, and he gave
me the little party of pleasure that I told you of all over again,
presenting me at dessert with a ticket for the opera. They sang
'William Tell,' which, you know, is my craze."

"You are lucky indeed," returns Madame Deschars with evident jealousy.

"Still, a wife who discharges all her duties, deserves such luck, it
seems to me."

When this terrible sentiment falls from the lips of a married woman,
it is clear that she _does her duty_, after the manner of school-boys,
for the reward she expects. At school, a prize is the object: in
marriage, a shawl or a piece of jewelry. No more love, then!

"As for me,"--Madame Deschars is piqued--"I am reasonable. Deschars
committed such follies once, but I put a stop to it. You see, my dear,
we have two children, and I confess that one or two hundred francs are
quite a consideration for me, as the mother of a family."

"Dear me, madame," says Madame de Fischtaminel, "it's better that our
husbands should have cosy little times with us than with--"

"Deschars!--" suddenly puts in Madame Deschars, as she gets up and
says good-bye.

The individual known as Deschars (a man nullified by his wife) does
not hear the end of the sentence, by which he might have learned that
a man may spend his money with other women.

Caroline, flattered in every one of her vanities, abandons herself to
the pleasures of pride and high living, two delicious capital sins.
Adolphe is gaining ground again, but alas! (this reflection is worth a
whole sermon in Lent) sin, like all pleasure, contains a spur. Vice is
like an Autocrat, and let a single harsh fold in a rose-leaf irritate
it, it forgets a thousand charming bygone flatteries. With Vice a
man's course must always be crescendo!--and forever.

Axiom.--Vice, Courtiers, Misfortune and Love, care only for the
PRESENT.

At the end of a period of time difficult to determine, Caroline looks
in the glass, at dessert, and notices two or three pimples blooming
upon her cheeks, and upon the sides, lately so