ntance until she had
discovered her niece's secret.

The latter was silent a moment before replying.

"How can you think of such a thing, aunt?" said she at last, "a man with
such a bad reputation, who writes books that one hardly dares read, and
plays that it's almost a sin to witness! Did you not hear Madame de
Pontivers say that a young woman who cared for her reputation would
permit his visits very rarely?"

"Madame de Pontivers is a prude, whom I can not endure, with her show of
little, grimaces and her pretentious, outrageous mock-modesty. Did she
not take it into her head this winter to constitute me her chaperon? I
gave her to understand that a widow forty years old was quite old enough
to go about alone! She has a mania for fearing that she may be
compromised. The idea of turning up her nose at Monsieur de Gerfaut! What
presumption! He certainly is too clever ever to solicit the honor of
being bored to death in her house; for he is clever, very clever. I never
could understand your dislike for him, nor your haughty manner of
treating him; especially, during the latter part of our stay in Paris."

"One is not mistress of one's dislikes or affections, aunt. But to reply
to your questions, I will say that you may rest assured that none of
these gentlemen, nor any of those whom you might name, has the slightest
effect upon my state of mind. I am bored because it probably is my nature
to need distractions, and there are none in this deserted place. It is an
involuntary disagreeableness, for which I reproach myself and which I
hope will pass away. Rest assured, that the root of the evil does not lie
in my heart."

Mademoiselle de Corandeuil understood by the cold and rather dry tone in
which these words were spoken that her niece wished to keep her secret,
if she had one; she could not prevent a gesture of anger as she saw her
advances thus repelled, but felt that she was no wiser than when she
began the conversation. She manifested her disappointment by pushing the
dog aside with her foot--the poor thing was perfectly innocent!--and in a
cross tone, which was much more familiar than her former coaxing one, she
continued:

"Very well, since I am wrong, since your husband adores you and you him,
since, to sum it all up, your heart is perfectly tranquil and free, your
conduct is devoid of common-sense, and I advise you to change it. I warn
you that all this hypochondria, paleness, and languor are caprices which