elle Image, during which Tremorel recounted a very pretty story
about his restoration to life, in which he played a part, the
heroism of which was well calculated to redouble the little lady's
admiration. Then Jenny in her turn unfolded her plans for the
future, which were, to do her justice, most reasonable. She had
resolved more than ever to remain faithful to Hector now that he
was ruined, to give up her elegant rooms, sell her furniture, and
undertake some honest trade. She had found one of her old friends,
who was now an accomplished dressmaker, and who was anxious to
obtain a partner who had some money, while she herself furnished
the experience. They would purchase an establishment in the Breda
quarter, and between them could scarcely fail to prosper. Jenny
talked with a pretty, knowing, business-like air, which made Hector
laugh. These projects seemed very comic to him; yet he was touched
by this unselfishness on the part of a young and pretty woman, who
was willing to work in order to please him.

But, unhappily, they were forced to part. Jenny had gone to Corbeil
intending to stay a week; but the count told her this was absolutely
impossible. She cried bitterly at first, then got angry, and finally
consoled herself with a plan to return on the following Tuesday.

"Good-by," said she, embracing Hector, "think of me." She smilingly
added, "I ought to be jealous; for they say your friend's wife is
perhaps the handsomest woman in France. Is it true?"

"Upon my word, I don't know. I've forgotten to look at her."

Hector told the truth. Although he did not betray it, he was still
under the surprise of his chagrin at the failure of his attempt at
suicide. He felt the dizziness which follows great moral crises as
well as a heavy blow on the head, and which distracts the attention
from exterior things. But Jenny's words, "the handsomest woman in
France," attracted his notice, and he could, that very evening,
repair his forgetfulness. When he returned to Valfeuillu, his
friend had not returned; Mme. Sauvresy was alone reading, in the
brilliantly lighted drawing-room. Hector seated himself opposite
her, a little aside, and was thus able to observe her at his ease,
while engaging her in conversation. His first impression was an
unfavorable one. He found her beauty too sculptural and polished.
He sought for imperfections, and finding none, was almost terrified
by this lovely, motionless face, these clear, cold eyes. Li