of an intention to slip off, she said to him, in her most
insinuating manner--

"I will detain you for a minute, my dear; I must have a little
conversation with you about a matter on which I want to take your
advice."

I kissed the hand which she held out to me, and which indicated that my
presence was not wanted.

"Well, good night, old good-for-nothing!" she added, as she accompanied
me as far as the door of the adjoining room.

What passed after I left, none will ever know. My aunt, with her
exquisite tact, has only related to me the original and amusing side of
the matter, laughing at her unfortunate discovery in the lofty manner of
a noble lady who is smoothing over a family trouble. Apart from her very
genuine affection for my uncle, she entertains also a certain esteem for
him, which she could never depart from before his nephew.

As for myself, I remained still in ignorance of everything until nine
o'clock, when the Pasha joined me again at the club, where he had
particularly asked me to wait for him.

At the first glance I guessed that there had been a row. Without saying
a word, he led me into a little detached room: there he fell into an
arm-chair, and shook his head in silence, as he looked at me.

"Good gracious! what's the matter, uncle?" I asked.

"Pfuiii!" he replied, staring with his full eyes, and prolonging this
kind of whistling exclamation, like a man who is breathing more freely
after a narrow escape.

His gestures were so eloquent, his sigh so expressive and so
reinvigorating, that I waited until he had given complete vent to it.
When I saw him quite exhausted by it, I continued, feeling really
anxious--

"Come! what is it?"

"Oh, I've just had such a nasty turn!" he answered at last, "Pfuiii!"

I respected this new effort at relief, which, moreover set him right
this time.

"You've had some words with my aunt, I suppose?" I added, at a venture,
recollecting the cloud which seemed to hang over us at dinner.

"A regular earthquake!" he drawled out, in that appalling Marseilles
accent which he falls into whenever he is overcome by any strong
emotion. "Your aunt Eudoxia has discovered the whole bag of tricks! The
story of the Passy house, your aunt Gretchen, the children, Dirkie, and
the whole blessed shop!"

"But, perhaps she has only suspicions--the consequence of some gossip
she has heard?"

"Suspicions?" he exclaimed; "why, they have met each other!"

"Nonsense, that's imp