"What! do you not know? Why--why--he is in the coach house. He
is dead."

They were all silent in amazement.

M. d'Arnelles continued, more and more disturbed:

"I had the misfortune to lose him; and as I was taking the body to my
house, in Briseville, I came round this way so as not to miss our
appointment. But you can see that I cannot wait any longer."

Then one of the sportsmen, bolder than the rest said:

"Well, but--since he is dead--it seems to me that he can wait a
day longer."

The others chimed in:

"That cannot be denied."

M. d'Arnelles appeared to be relieved of a great weight, but a little
uneasy, nevertheless, he asked:

"But, frankly--do you think--"

The three others, as one man, replied:

"Parbleu! my dear boy, two days more or less can make no difference in
his present condition."

And, perfectly calmly, the father-in-law turned to the undertaker's
assistant, and said:

"Well, then, my friend, it will be the day after tomorrow."

A FAMILY

I was to see my old friend, Simon Radevin, of whom I had lost sight for
fifteen years. At one time he was my most intimate friend, the friend who
knows one's thoughts, with whom one passes long, quiet, happy evenings,
to whom one tells one's secret love affairs, and who seems to draw out
those rare, ingenious, delicate thoughts born of that sympathy that gives
a sense of repose.

For years we had scarcely been separated; we had lived, travelled,
thought and dreamed together; had liked the same things, had admired the
same books, understood the same authors, trembled with the same
sensations, and very often laughed at the same individuals, whom we
understood completely by merely exchanging a glance.

Then he married. He married, quite suddenly, a little girl from the
provinces, who had come to Paris in search of a husband. How in the world
could that little thin, insipidly fair girl, with her weak hands, her
light, vacant eyes, and her clear, silly voice, who was exactly like a
hundred thousand marriageable dolls, have picked up that intelligent,
clever young fellow? Can any one understand these things? No doubt he had
hoped for happiness, simple, quiet and long-enduring happiness, in the
arms of a good, tender and faithful woman; he had seen all that in the
transparent looks of that schoolgirl with light hair.

He had not dreamed of the fact that an active, living and vibrating man
grows weary of everything as soon as he understands