y the man who wins her love! He could
not find a better wife."

Now M. Lantin enjoyed a snug little income of $700, and, thinking he
could safely assume the responsibilities of matrimony, proposed to this
model young girl and was accepted.

He was unspeakably happy with her; she governed his household so
cleverly and economically that they seemed to live in luxury. She
lavished the most delicate attentions on her husband, coaxed and
fondled him, and the charm of her presence was so great that six years
after their marriage M. Lantin discovered that he loved his wife even
more than during the first days of their honeymoon.

He only felt inclined to blame her for two things: her love of the
theater, and a taste for false jewelry. Her friends (she was acquainted
with some officers' wives) frequently procured for her a box at the
theater, often for the first representations of the new plays; and her
husband was obliged to accompany her, whether he willed or not, to
these amusements, though they bored him excessively after a day's labor
at the office.

After a time, M. Lantin begged his wife to get some lady of her
acquaintance to accompany her. She was at first opposed to such an
arrangement; but, after much persuasion on his part, she finally
consented--to the infinite delight of her husband.

Now, with her love for the theater came also the desire to adorn her
person. True, her costumes remained as before, simple, and in the most
correct taste; but she soon began to ornament her ears with huge
rhinestones which glittered and sparkled like real diamonds. Around her
neck she wore strings of false pearls, and on her arms bracelets of
imitation gold.

Her husband frequently remonstrated with her, saying:

"My dear, as you cannot afford to buy real diamonds, you ought to
appear adorned with your beauty and modesty alone, which are the rarest
ornaments of your sex."

But she would smile sweetly, and say:

"What can I do? I am so fond of jewelry. It is my only weakness. We
cannot change our natures."

Then she would roll the pearl necklaces around her fingers, and hold up
the bright gems for her husband's admiration, gently coaxing him:

"Look! are they not lovely? One would swear they were real."

M. Lantin would then answer, smilingly:

"You have Bohemian tastes, my dear."

Often of an evening, when they were enjoying a tete-a-tete by the
fireside, she would place on the tea table the leather box containing