n at the early period of his married life, for his wife had
always shown herself cold and reserved.

Just then Julie came to the door, with a pale face and glistening eyes,
and said in a voice which trembled with exasperation: "It is half-past
seven, monsieur."

Parent gave an uneasy and resigned look at the clock and replied: "Yes,
it certainly is half-past seven."

"Well, my dinner is quite ready now."

Seeing the storm which was coming, he tried to turn it aside. "But did
you not tell me when I came in that it would not be ready before eight?"

"Eight! what are you thinking about? You surely do not mean to let the
child dine at eight o'clock? It would ruin his stomach. Just suppose that
he only had his mother to look after him! She cares a great deal about
her child. Oh, yes, we will speak about her; she is a mother! What a pity
it is that there should be any mothers like her!"

Parent thought it was time to cut short a threatened scene. "Julie," he
said, "I will not allow you to speak like that of your mistress. You
understand me, do you not? Do not forget it in the future."

The old servant, who was nearly choked with surprise, turned and went
out, slamming the door so violently after her that the lustres on the
chandelier rattled, and for some seconds it sounded as if a number of
little invisible bells were ringing in the drawing-room.

Eight o'clock struck, the door opened, and Julie came in again. She had
lost her look of exasperation, but now she put on an air of cold and
determined resolution, which was still more formidable.

"Monsieur," she said, "I served your mother until the day of her death,
and I have attended to you from your birth until now, and I think it may
be said that I am devoted to the family." She waited for a reply, and
Parent stammered:

"Why, yes, certainly, my good Julie."

"You know quite well," she continued, "that I have never done anything
for the sake of money, but always for your sake; that I have never
deceived you nor lied to you, that you have never had to find fault with
me--"

"Certainly, my good Julie."

"Very well, then, monsieur; it cannot go on any longer like this. I have
said nothing, and left you in your ignorance, out of respect and liking
for you, but it is too much, and every one in the neighborhood is
laughing at you. Everybody knows about it, and so I must tell you also,
although I do not like to repeat it. The reason why madame comes in at
any time s