confusion of silken lace, which revealed to the
astonished eye, under an apparent simplicity, a world of feminine
elegance in the thousand shades contained in a single colour.

[Illustration: p183-194]

Moreover her occupation was by no means laborious, she said. All her
pupils, daughters of bankers or stock brokers, loved and respected her;
and many a time she would show me a bracelet or a ring, that had been
presented as a mark of gratitude for her care. Except for our work, we
never left one another, and we went nowhere. Only on Sundays she went
off to Saint-Germain to see her sister, the wife of the Chief Ranger,
with whom she was now reconciled. I would accompany her to the station.
She would return the same evening, and often in the long summer days, we
would agree to meet at some station on the way, by the riverside or in
the woods. She would tell me about her visit, the children's good looks,
the air of happiness that reigned in the household. My heart bled for
her, deprived of the pleasures of family life as she was doomed to be;
and my tenderness increased tenfold in order to make her forget the
falseness of her position, so painful to a woman of her character.

What a happy time of perfect confidence, and how well I worked! I
suspected nothing. All she said seemed so true, so natural. I could only
reproach her with one thing. When talking of the houses she frequented,
and the different families of her pupils, she would indulge in a
superabundance of imaginary details and fancied intrigues, which she
invented without any _apropos_.

[Illustration: p185-196]

Calm herself, she was ever conjuring up romances around her, and her
life was spent in composing dramatic situations. These idle fancies
disturbed my happiness. I, who longed to leave the world and society, in
order to devote myself exclusively to her, found her too much taken up
by indifferent subjects. However, I could easily excuse this defect in a
young and unhappy woman, whose life had been hitherto a sad romance, the
issue of which could not be foreseen.

Once only did a suspicion or rather a presentiment cross my mind. One
Sunday evening she failed to return home. I was in despair. What could
I do? Go to Saint-Germain? I might compromise her. Nevertheless, after a
dreadful night of anguish, I had decided on starting, when she arrived,
looking pale and worried. Her sister was ill, she had been obliged to
stay and nurse her. I believed all she