ed in concealing the
unspeakable satisfaction with which she was filled. All her wishes
were accomplished, and yet she was able to veil her delight under
an apparent sadness.

"Of what good is this?" said she, with a sigh.

She said this, but half an hour afterward, when she was alone with
Hector, she gave herself up to the extravagance of her delight.

"Nothing more to fear," exclaimed she. "Nothing! Now we shall
have liberty, fortune, love, pleasure, life! Why, Hector, we shall
have at least three millions; you see, I've got this will myself,
and I shall keep it. No more agents or notaries shall be admitted
into this house henceforth. Now I must hasten!"

The count certainly felt a satisfaction in knowing her to be rich,
for he could much more easily get rid of a millionnaire widow than
of a poor penniless woman. Sauvresy's conduct thus calmed many
sharp anxieties. Her restless gayety, however, her confident
security, seemed monstrous to Hector. He would have wished for
more solemnity in the execution of the crime; he thought that he
ought at least to calm Bertha's delirium.

"You will think more than once of Sauvresy," said he, in a graver
tone.

She answered with a "prrr," and added vivaciously:

"Of him? when and why? Oh, his memory will not weigh on me very
heavily. I trust that we shall be able to live still at Valfeuillu,
for the place pleases me; but we must also have a house at Paris
--or we will buy yours back again. What happiness, Hector!"

The mere prospect of this anticipated felicity so shocked Hector,
that his better self for the moment got the mastery; he essayed to
move Bertha.

"For the last time," said he, "I implore you to renounce this
terrible, dangerous project. You see that you were mistaken--that
Sauvresy suspects nothing, but loves you as well as ever."

The expression of Bertha's face suddenly changed; she sat quite
still, in a pensive revery.

"Don't let's talk any more of that," said she, at last. "Perhaps
I was mistaken. Perhaps he only had doubts--perhaps, although he
has discovered something, he hopes to win me back by his goodness.
But you see--"

She stopped. Doubtless she did not wish to alarm him.

He was already much alarmed. The next day he went off to Melun
without a word; being unable to bear the sight of this agony, and
fearing to betray himself. But he left his address, and when she
sent word that Sauvresy was always crying out for him, he hastily
returned.