red francs for him. Come to-night to Monsieur
Desmaret's office; he's a notary, and here's his address. At nine
o'clock the deed will be ready, but--silence!"

"Enough, monsieur; as you say--silence! Au revoir, monsieur."

Jules went home, almost calmed by the certainty that he should know the
truth on the morrow. As he entered the house, the porter gave him the
letter properly resealed.

"How do you feel now?" he said to his wife, in spite of the coldness
that separated them.

"Pretty well, Jules," she answered in a coaxing voice, "do come and dine
beside me."

"Very good," he said, giving her the letter. "Here is something
Fouguereau gave me for you."

Clemence, who was very pale, colored high when she saw the letter, and
that sudden redness was a fresh blow to her husband.

"Is that joy," he said, laughing, "or the effect of expectation?"

"Oh, of many things!" she said, examining the seal.

"I leave you now for a few moments."

He went down to his study, and wrote to his brother, giving him
directions about the payment to the widow Gruget. When he returned, he
found his dinner served on a little table by his wife's bedside, and
Josephine ready to wait on him.

"If I were up how I should like to serve you myself," said Clemence,
when Josephine had left them. "Oh, yes, on my knees!" she added, passing
her white hands through her husband's hair. "Dear, noble heart, you were
very kind and gracious to me just now. You did me more good by showing
me such confidence than all the doctors on earth could do me with their
prescriptions. That feminine delicacy of yours--for you do know how
to love like a woman--well, it has shed a balm into my heart which has
almost cured me. There's truce between us, Jules; lower your head, that
I may kiss it."

Jules could not deny himself the pleasure of that embrace. But it was
not without a feeling of remorse in his heart; he felt himself small
before this woman whom he was still tempted to think innocent. A sort
of melancholy joy possessed him. A tender hope shone on her features
in spite of their grieved expression. They both were equally unhappy
in deceiving each other; another caress, and, unable to resist their
suffering, all would then have been avowed.

"To-morrow evening, Clemence."

"No, no; to-morrow morning, by twelve o'clock, you will know all, and
you'll kneel down before your wife--Oh, no! you shall not be humiliated;
you are all forgiven now; you have done