, which, discreetly covered with dark drapery, that,
however, was very rarely let down, seemed to look at the bed, which was
its accomplice. One might almost fancy that it felt regrets, and that
one was going to see in it charming shapes of naked women, and the
gentle movement of arms about to embrace them.

The Baron stood still for a moment, smiling, rather moved, on the
threshold of this chamber dedicated to love. But suddenly something
appeared in the looking-glass, as if the phantoms which he had evoked
had risen up before him. A man and a woman who had been sitting on a low
couch hidden in the shade had got up, and the polished surface,
reflecting their figures, showed that they were kissing each other
before separating.

The Baron recognized his wife and the Marquis de Cervigne. He turned and
went away like a man who is fully master of himself, and waited till it
was day before taking away the Baroness; but he had no longer any
thoughts of sleeping.

As soon as they were alone he said.

"Madame, I saw you just now in Princess de Raynes' room; I need say no
more, and I am not fond either of reproaches, acts of violence, or of
ridicule. As I wish to avoid all such things, we shall separate without
any scandal. Our lawyers will settle your position according to my
orders. You will be free to live as you please when you are no longer
under my roof; but, as you will continue to bear my name, I must warn
you that, should any scandal arise, I shall show myself inflexible."

She tried to speak, but he stopped her, bowed, and left the room.

He was more astonished and sad than unhappy. He had loved her dearly
during the first period of their married life; but his ardor had cooled,
and now he often had a caprice, either in a theater or in society,
though he always preserved a certain liking for the Baroness.

She was very young, hardly four-and-twenty, small, slight--too
slight--and very fair. She was a true Parisian doll: clever, spoilt,
elegant, coquettish, witty, with more charm than real beauty. He used to
say familiarly to his brother, when speaking of her:

"My wife is charming, attractive, but--there is nothing to lay hold of.
She is like a glass of champagne that is all froth--when you have got to
the wine it is very good, but there is too little of it, unfortunately."

He walked up and down the room in great agitation, and thinking of a
thousand things. At one moment he felt in a great rage, and felt
inc