ng; she wished to see what might happen, and her glances
lingered for a while on the Deberles and then travelled back to her
mother. When Juliette had bent her face upwards to receive her
husband's kiss, a bright gleam had come into the child's eyes.

"He's too heavy," resumed the doctor as he set Lucien down again.
"Well, was the season a good one? I saw Malignon yesterday, and he was
telling me about his stay there. So you let him leave before you, eh?"

"Oh! he's quite a nuisance!" exclaimed Juliette, over whose face a
serious, embarrassed expression had now crept. "He tormented us to
death the whole time."

"Your father was hoping for Pauline's sake--He hasn't declared his
intentions then?"

"What! Malignon!" said she, as though astonished and offended. And
then with a gesture of annoyance she added, "Oh! leave him alone; he's
cracked! How happy I am to be home again!"

Without any apparent transition, she thereupon broke into an amazing
outburst of tenderness, characteristic of her bird-like nature. She
threw herself on her husband's breast and raised her face towards him.
To all seeming they had forgotten that they were not alone.

Jeanne's eyes, however, never quitted them. Her lips were livid and
trembled with anger; her face was that of a jealous and revengeful
woman. The pain she suffered was so great that she was forced to turn
away her head, and in doing so she caught sight of Rosalie and
Zephyrin at the bottom of the garden, still gathering parsley.
Doubtless with the intent of being in no one's way, they had crept in
among the thickest of the bushes, where both were squatting on the
ground. Zephyrin, with a sly movement, had caught hold of one of
Rosalie's feet, while she, without uttering a syllable, was heartily
slapping him. Between two branches Jeanne could see the little
soldier's face, chubby and round as a moon and deeply flushed, while
his mouth gaped with an amorous grin. Meantime the sun's rays were
beating down vertically, and the trees were peacefully sleeping, not a
leaf stirring among them all. From beneath the elms came the heavy
odor of soil untouched by the spade. And elsewhere floated the perfume
of the last tea-roses, which were casting their petals one by one on
the garden steps. Then Jeanne, with swelling heart, turned her gaze on
her mother, and seeing her motionless and dumb in presence of the
Deberles, gave her a look of intense anguish--a child's look of
infinite meaning, su