rtue, and the coy Valerie made him enjoy it to the
utmost--all along the line, as the saying goes.

The question having come to this point between Hector and Valerie, it is
not astonishing that Valerie should have heard from Hector the secret of
the intended marriage between the great sculptor Steinbock and Hortense
Hulot. Between a lover on his promotion and a lady who hesitates
long before becoming his mistress, there are contests, uttered or
unexpressed, in which a word often betrays a thought; as, in fencing,
the foils fly as briskly as the swords in duel. Then a prudent man
follows the example of Monsieur de Turenne. Thus the Baron had hinted at
the greater freedom his daughter's marriage would allow him, in reply to
the tender Valerie, who more than once had exclaimed:

"I cannot imagine how a woman can go wrong for a man who is not wholly
hers."

And a thousand times already the Baron had declared that for
five-and-twenty years all had been at an end between Madame Hulot and
himself.

"And they say she is so handsome!" replied Madame Marneffe. "I want
proof."

"You shall have it," said the Baron, made happy by this demand, by which
his Valerie committed herself.

Hector had then been compelled to reveal his plans, already being
carried into effect in the Rue Vanneau, to prove to Valerie that he
intended to devote to her that half of his life which belonged to his
lawful wife, supposing that day and night equally divide the existence
of civilized humanity. He spoke of decently deserting his wife, leaving
her to herself as soon as Hortense should be married. The Baroness would
then spend all her time with Hortense or the young Hulot couple; he was
sure of her submission.

"And then, my angel, my true life, my real home will be in the Rue
Vanneau."

"Bless me, how you dispose of me!" said Madame Marneffe. "And my
husband----"

"That rag!"

"To be sure, as compared with you so he is!" said she with a laugh.

Madame Marneffe, having heard Steinbock's history, was frantically eager
to see the young Count; perhaps she wished to have some trifle of his
work while they still lived under the same roof. This curiosity so
seriously annoyed the Baron that Valerie swore to him that she would
never even look at Wenceslas. But though she obtained, as the reward
of her surrender of this wish, a little tea-service of old Sevres _pate
tendre_, she kept her wish at the bottom of her heart, as if written on
tablets.