d, she saw her husband. The
expression of impatience imprinted upon her face gave way to one of
fright. She arose with a movement she could not repress, as if she had
seen a stranger, and stood leaning against the mantel in a constrained
attitude. Nothing in Christian's manner justified, however, the fear the
sight of him seemed to cause his wife. He advanced with a tranquil air,
and a smile that he had forced upon his lips.

With the presence of mind with which all women seem to be gifted,
Clemence fell back into her chair, and, assuming a languid, suffering
tone, mixed with an appearance of reproach, she said:

"I am glad to see you for a moment in order to scold you; you have not
shown your usual consideration to-night. Did you not think that the
noise from the dining-room might reach as far as here?"

"Has it troubled you?" asked Christian, looking at her attentively.

"Unless one had a head of cast-iron--It seems that these gentlemen have
abused the liberty permitted in the country. From what Justine tells me,
things have taken place which would have been more appropriate at the
Femme-sans-Tete."

"Are you suffering very much?"

"A frightful neuralgia--I only wish I could sleep."

"I was wrong not to have thought of this. You will forgive me, will you
not?"

Bergenheim leaned over the chair, passed his arm around the young
woman's shoulders, and pressed his lips to her forehead. For the first
time in his life, he was playing a part upon the marital stage, and
he watched with the closest attention the slightest expression of his
wife's face. He noticed that she shivered, and that her forehead which
he had lightly touched was as cold as marble.

He arose and took several turns about the room, avoiding even a glance
at her, for the aversion which she had just shown toward her husband
seemed to him positive proof of the very thing he dreaded, and he feared
he should not be able to contain himself.

"What is the matter with you?" she asked, as she noticed his agitation.

These words brought the Baron to his senses, and he returned to her
side, replying in a careless tone:

"I am annoyed for a very simple cause; it concerns your aunt."

"I know. She is furious against you on account of the double misfortune
to her dog and coachman. You will admit that, as far as Constance is
concerned, you are guilty."

"She is not content with being furious; she threatens a complete
rupture. Here, read this."

He hand