erosity.

"Ah! my kind Hector, I may have flirted, and have seemed to you to
be fickle, but you did not know your Valerie; she liked to tease
you, but she loves you better than any one in the world.

"He cannot prevent your coming to see your cousin; I will arrange
with her that we have speech with each other. My dear old boy,
write me just a line, pray, to comfort me in the absence of your
dear self. (Oh, I would give one of my hands to have you by me on
our sofa!) A letter will work like a charm; write me something
full of your noble soul; I will return your note to you, for I
must be cautious; I should not know where to hide it, he pokes his
nose in everywhere. In short, comfort your Valerie, your little
wife, the mother of your child.--To think of my having to write to
you, when I used to see you every day. As I say to Lisbeth, 'I did
not know how happy I was.' A thousand kisses, dear boy. Be true to
your

"VALERIE."

"And tears!" said Hulot to himself as he finished this letter, "tears
which have blotted out her name.--How is she?" said he to Reine.

"Madame is in bed; she has dreadful spasms," replied Reine. "She had a
fit of hysterics that twisted her like a withy round a faggot. It came
on after writing. It comes of crying so much. She heard monsieur's
voice on the stairs."

The Baron in his distress wrote the following note on office paper
with a printed heading:--

"Be quite easy, my angel, he will die a second-class clerk!--Your
idea is admirable; we will go and live far from Paris, where we
shall be happy with our little Hector; I will retire on my
pension, and I shall be sure to find some good appointment on a
railway.

"Ah, my sweet friend, I feel so much the younger for your letter!
I shall begin life again and make a fortune, you will see, for our
dear little one. As I read your letter, a thousand times more
ardent than those of the _Nouvelle Heloise_, it worked a miracle!
I had not believed it possible that I could love you more. This
evening, at Lisbeth's you will see

"YOUR HECTOR, FOR LIFE."

Reine carried off this reply, the first letter the Baron had written
to his "sweet friend." Such emotions to some extent counterbalanced
the disasters growling in the distance; but the Baron, at this moment
believing he could certainly avert the blows aimed at his uncle,
Johann Fischer, thought only of the deficit.

One of the characteristic