fe, to whom he carried his wife's
letter to show her what a disaster she had caused, and to discount
his misfortune, so to speak, by claiming in return the pleasures his
mistress could give him.

He found Crevel with Valerie. The mayor, puffed up with pride, marched
up and down the room, agitated by a storm of feelings. He put himself
into position as if he were about to speak, but he dared not. His
countenance was beaming, and he went now and again to the window, where
he drummed on the pane with his fingers. He kept looking at Valerie with
a glance of tender pathos. Happily for him, Lisbeth presently came in.

"Cousin Betty," he said in her ear, "have you heard the news? I am a
father! It seems to me I love my poor Celestine the less.--Oh! what
a thing it is to have a child by the woman one idolizes! It is the
fatherhood of the heart added to that of the flesh! I say--tell Valerie
that I will work for that child--it shall be rich. She tells me she has
some reason for believing that it will be a boy! If it is a boy, I shall
insist on his being called Crevel. I will consult my notary about it."

"I know how much she loves you," said Lisbeth. "But for her sake in the
future, and for your own, control yourself. Do not rub your hands every
five minutes."

While Lisbeth was speaking aside on this wise to Crevel, Valerie had
asked Wenceslas to give her back her letter, and she was saying things
that dispelled all his griefs.

"So now you are free, my dear," said she. "Ought any great artist to
marry? You live only by fancy and freedom! There, I shall love you so
much, beloved poet, that you shall never regret your wife. At the
same time, if, like so many people, you want to keep up appearances, I
undertake to bring Hortense back to you in a very short time."

"Oh, if only that were possible!"

"I am certain of it," said Valerie, nettled. "Your poor father-in-law
is a man who is in every way utterly done for; who wants to appear as
though he could be loved, out of conceit, and to make the world believe
that he has a mistress; and he is so excessively vain on this point,
that I can do what I please with him. The Baroness is still so
devoted to her old Hector--I always feel as if I were talking of the
_Iliad_--that these two old folks will contrive to patch up matters
between you and Hortense. Only, if you want to avoid storms at home for
the future, do not leave me for three weeks without coming to see your
mistress--I