verly leading
him off when he began to brag of his own doings; so cleverly that he had
no idea of her tactics. He was a little dazzled. She was a very handsome
woman; her commanding fairness, her wonderful smile, the movements of
her lovely hands and arms, the almost confidential charm of her manner;
she was worthy to be an Empress herself, Ratoneau thought, and his
admiration went on growing. He began to talk to her of his most private
affairs and wishes, and she listened more and more graciously.

It was a large party; many of the old provincial families were
represented there. All the company talked and laughed in the gayest
manner, though now and then eyes would light on the hostess' left-hand
neighbour with a kind of disgusted fascination, and somebody would be
silent for a minute or two, or murmur a private remark in a neighbour's
ear. One lady, an old friend and plain of speech, turned thus to Urbain
de la Mariniere:--

"Why does Adelaide exert herself to entertain that creature?"

"Because, madame," he answered, smiling, "Adelaide is the most sensible
and practical woman of our acquaintance."

"Mon Dieu! But what does she expect to get by it?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

Angelot, the youngest man present, had been allowed to take his cousin
Helene in to dinner. Two minutes of happiness; for the arrangement of
the table separated them by its whole length. But it had been enough to
bring a smile and a tinge of lovely colour to Helene's face, and to give
her the rare feeling that happiness, after all, was a possibility. Then
she found herself next to a person who, after Angelot, seemed to her
the most delightful she had ever met; who asked her friendly questions,
told her stories, watched her, in the intervals of his talk with others,
with eyes full of admiration and a deep amusement which she did not
understand, but which set her heart beating oddly and pleasantly, as she
asked herself if Angelot could possibly have said anything to this dear
uncle of his.

Poor Angelot! he looked unhappy enough, there in the distance, sitting
in most unusual sulks and silence.

There was an opportunity for a word, as he led her back from the
dining-room, through the smaller salon, into the large lighted room
where all the guests had preceded them.

"I don't wonder that you love your uncle," she said to him.

"I don't love him, when I see him talking to you. I am too jealous."

"How absurd!"

"Besides, I am angry w