to him, timidly and at the same time boldly: "So this is the
way that you take the air?" And when she ended by asking him, "Come to my
house," he had followed her. But he had hardly entered when the past all
came back to him, and he felt a stifled feeling of distress. Falling into
a chair, he sobbed, burying his face in his hands. His grief was so
violent that, by a feminine instinct of pity, the wretched creature took
his head in her arms, saying, in a consoling tone, "There, cry, cry, it
will do you good!" and rocked him like an infant. At last he disengaged
himself from this caress, which made him ashamed of himself, and throwing
what little money he had about him upon the top of the bureau, he went
away and returned to his home, where he went hastily to bed and wept to
his heart's content, as he gnawed his pillow. Oh, horrible memories!

No! never a wife, no mistress, nothing! Now his grief was his wife, and
lived with him.

The widower's morning awakening was frightful above all things else-his
awakening in the large bed that now had but one pillow. It was there that
he had once had the exquisite pleasure of watching his dear Lucie every
morning when asleep; for she did not like to get up early, and sometimes
he had jokingly scolded her for it. What serenity upon this delicate,
sweet face, with its closed eyes, nestling among her beautiful,
disordered hair! How chaste this lovely young wife was in her
unconstraint! She had thrown one of her arms outside of the covering, and
the neck of her nightrobe, having slipped down, showed such a pure white
shoulder and delicate neck. He leaned over the half-opened mouth, which
exhaled a warm and living odor, something like the perfume of a flower,
to inhale it, and a tender pride swept over him when he thought that she
was his, his wife, this delicious creature who was almost a child yet,
and that her heart was given to him forever. He could not resist it; he
touched his young wife's lips with his own. She trembled under the kiss
and opened her eyes, when the astonishment of the awakening was at once
transformed into a happy smile as she met her husband's glance. Oh,
blissful moment! But in spite of all, one must be sensible. He recalled
that the milk-maid had left at daybreak her pot of milk at the door of
their apartment; that the fire was not lighted, and that he must be at
the office early, as the time for promotions was drawing near. Giving
another kiss to the half-asle