iolence. She bore
a grudge a long time. She had once been pretty, but had now become too
stout and too red; but in her neighborhood at Saint-Germain she still
passed for a very beautiful woman, who exemplified health and an
uncertain temper.

Their dissensions almost always began at breakfast, over some trivial
matter, and they often continued all day and even until the following
day. Their simple, common, limited life imparted seriousness to the most
unimportant matters, and every topic of conversation became a subject of
dispute. This had not been so in the days when business occupied their
minds, drew their hearts together, and gave them common interests and
occupation.

But at Saint-Germain they saw fewer people. It had been necessary to make
new acquaintances, to create for themselves a new world among strangers,
a new existence devoid of occupations. Then the monotony of loneliness
had soured each of them a little; and the quiet happiness which they had
hoped and waited for with the coming of riches did not appear.

One June morning, just as they were sitting down to breakfast, Bondel
asked:

"Do you know the people who live in the little red cottage at the end of
the Rue du Berceau?"

Madame Bondel was out of sorts. She answered:

"Yes and no; I am acquainted with them, but I do not care to know them."

"Why not? They seem to be very nice."

"Because--"

"This morning I met the husband on the terrace and we took a little walk
together."

Seeing that there was danger in the air, Bendel added: "It was he who
spoke to me first."

His wife looked at him in a displeased manner. She continued: "You would
have done just as well to avoid him."

"Why?"

"Because there are rumors about them."

"What kind?"

"Oh! rumors such as one often hears!"

M. Bondel was, unfortunately, a little hasty. He exclaimed:

"My dear, you know that I abhor gossip. As for those people, I find them
very pleasant."

She asked testily: "The wife also?"

"Why, yes; although I have barely seen her."

The discussion gradually grew more heated, always on the same subject for
lack of others. Madame Bondel obstinately refused to say what she had
heard about these neighbors, allowing things to be understood without
saying exactly what they were. Bendel would shrug his shoulders, grin,
and exasperate his wife. She finally cried out: "Well! that gentleman is
deceived by his wife, there!"

The husband answered quietly: "I can'