st people, and I
will answer for her conduct."

"Well, then, I can go with you," said the Baron, escorting his wife to
the cab.

Hector, the Baron d'Ervy once more, had put on a blue coat and
trousers, a white waistcoat, a black stock, and gloves. When the
Baroness had taken her seat in the vehicle, Atala slipped in like an
eel.

"Oh, madame," she said, "let me go with you. I will be so good, so
obedient; I will do whatever you wish; but do not part me from my
Daddy Vyder, my kind Daddy who gives me such nice things. I shall be
beaten--"

"Come, come, Atala," said the Baron, "this lady is my wife--we must
part--"

"She! As old as that! and shaking like a leaf!" said the child. "Look
at her head!" and she laughingly mimicked the Baroness' palsy.

The stove-fitter, who had run after the girl, came to the carriage
door.

"Take her away!" said Adeline. The man put his arms round Atala and
fairly carried her off.

"Thanks for such a sacrifice, my dearest," said Adeline, taking the
Baron's hand and clutching it with delirious joy. "How much you are
altered! you must have suffered so much! What a surprise for Hortense
and for your son!"

Adeline talked as lovers talk who meet after a long absence, of a
hundred things at once.

In ten minutes the Baron and his wife reached the Rue Louis-le-Grand,
and there Adeline found this note awaiting her:--

"MADAME LA BARONNE,--

"Monsieur le Baron Hulot d'Ervy lived for one month in the Rue de
Charonne under the name of Thorec, an anagram of Hector. He is now
in the Passage du Soleil by the name of Vyder. He says he is an
Alsatian, and does writing, and he lives with a girl named Atala
Judici. Be very cautious, madame, for search is on foot; the Baron
is wanted, on what score I know not.

"The actress has kept her word, and remains, as ever,

"Madame la Baronne, your humble servant,
"J. M."

The Baron's return was hailed with such joy as reconciled him to
domestic life. He forgot little Atala Judici, for excesses of
profligacy had reduced him to the volatility of feeling that is
characteristic of childhood. But the happiness of the family was
dashed by the change that had come over him. He had been still hale
when he had gone away from his home; he had come back almost a
hundred, broken, bent, and his expression even debased.

A splendid dinner, improvised by Celestine, reminded the old man of
the singer's banquets; he was dazzled by the splendo