an endless array of syrups
and drugs. You ought to change your gown and put on something warmer.
Who would ever think of dressing like that in such weather as this?"

"I assure you, aunt, it is not cold. It is because you have a habit of
always being near the fire--"

"Ah! habit! when you are my age you will not hint at such a thing. Now,
everything goes wonderfully well; you never listen to my advice--you go
out in the wind and rain with that flighty Aline and your husband, who
has no more sense than his sister; you will pay for it later. Open the
curtains, I pray; the storm is over, and I wish to read the Gazette."

The young woman obeyed a second time and stood with her forehead pressed
against the glass. The distant rumbling of the thunder announced the end
of the storm; but a few flashes still traversed the horizon.

"Aunt," said she, after a moment's silence, "come and look at the
Montigny rocks; when the lightning strikes them they look like a file of
silver columns or a procession of ghosts."

"What a romantic speech," growled the old lady, never taking her eyes
from her paper.

"I assure you I am not romantic the least in the world," replied
Clemence. "I simply find the storm a distraction, and here, you know,
there is no great choice of pleasures."

"Then you find it dull?"

"Oh, aunt, horribly so!" At these words, pronounced with a heartfelt
accent, the young woman dropped into an armchair.

Mademoiselle de Corandeuil took off her eye-glasses, put the paper upon
the table and gazed for several moments at her pretty niece's face,
which was tinged with a look of deep melancholy. She then straightened
herself up in her chair, and, leaning forward, asked in a low tone:

"Have you had any trouble with your husband?"

"If so, I should not be so bored," replied Clemence, in a gay tone,
which she repented immediately, for she continued more calmly:

"No, aunt; Christian is kind, very kind; he is very much attached to me,
and full of good-humor and attentions. You have seen how he has allowed
me to arrange my apartments to suit myself, even taking down the
partition and enlarging the windows; and yet, you know how much he
clings to everything that is old about the house. He tries to do
everything for my pleasure. Did he not go to Strasbourg the other day to
buy a pony for me, because I thought Titania was too skittish? It would
be impossible to show greater kindness."

"Your husband," suddenly interrupt