nd
carefully tucked her in.

"Yes, quite comfortable. Leave me alone, and don't disturb me. Take
away the lamp."

Her only yearning was to be alone in the darkness, that she might
reopen her eyes and chew the cud of her sorrows, with no one near to
watch her. When the light had been carried away, her eyes opened quite
wide.

Nearby, in the meantime, Helene was pacing up and down her room. She
was seized with a wondrous longing to be up and moving about; the idea
of going to bed seemed to her insufferable. She glanced at the clock
--twenty minutes to nine; what was she to do? she rummaged about in a
drawer, but forgot what she was seeking for. Then she wandered to her
bookshelves, glancing aimlessly over the books; but the very reading
of the titles wearied her. A buzzing sprang up in her ears with the
room's stillness; the loneliness, the heavy atmosphere, were as an
agony to her. She would fain have had some bustle going on around her,
have had some one there to speak to--something, in short, to draw her
from herself. She twice listened at the door of Jeanne's little room,
from which, however, not even a sound of breathing came. Everything
was quiet; so she turned back once more, and amused herself by taking
up and replacing whatever came to her hand. Then suddenly the thought
flashed across her mind that Zephyrin must still be with Rosalie. It
was a relief to her; she was delighted at the idea of not being alone,
and stepped in her slippers towards the kitchen.

She was already in the ante-room, and was opening the glass door of
the inner passage, when she detected the re-echoing clap of a swinging
box on the ears, and the next moment Rosalie could be heard
exclaiming:

"Ha, ha! you think you'll nip me again, do you? Take your paws off!"

"Oh! that's nothing, my charmer!" exclaimed Zephyrin in his husky,
guttural voice. "That's to show how I love you--in this style, you
know--"

But at that moment the door creaked, and Helene, entering, discovered
the diminutive soldier and the servant maid seated very quietly at
table, with their noses bent over their plates. They had assumed an
air of complete indifference; their innocence was certain. Yet their
faces were red with blushes, and their eyes aflame, and they wriggled
restlessly on their straw-bottomed chairs. Rosalie started up and
hurried forward.

"Madame wants something?"

Helene had no pretext ready to her tongue. She had come to see them,
to chat wit