"Great credit I deserve for that! It is so easy and pleasant to defer to you, my Jenny,--to bow this hard, stiff Breton neck before you, and say: 'I abdicate to you. Command; I will obey.'"

"Ah, my dear Yvon, if you only knew how happy it makes me to hear you say that, to-day especially."

These last words failed to attract Yvon's attention, however, and he continued:

"What are the little concessions I make, my dearest, in comparison with the blissful happiness I owe to you? Think," he added, turning to the crib, "this little angel that is the joy of my life, who gave her to me?" And he was about to open the curtains, when his wife said to him, warningly:

"Take care, Yvon, she is asleep."

"Let me just take one peep at her, only one. I have not seen her all day."

"The light of the lamp might arouse her, my dear, and the poor little thing has just had such a trying time."

"What! has she been ill?" inquired Cloarek, anxiously, leaving the cradle. "Do you really feel uneasy about her?"

"Not now, my dear, but you know how extremely nervous and excitable she is. She resembles me only too much in this respect," added Jenny, with a melancholy smile.

"And I, far from regretting that the dear child is so impressionable, rejoice at it, on the contrary, for I hope she will be endowed with the same exquisite sensibility of feeling that you are."

The young woman gently shook her head.

"This is what happened. Our big Newfoundland dog came into the room, and frightened the poor little thing so that I had great difficulty in quieting her afterward."

"I am thankful it was nothing serious. But how have you pa.s.sed the day?

You were asleep this morning, and I would not wake you. You know how much solicitude I always feel about your health, but it is even more precious to me than ever now," he added, smiling tenderly upon her.

Jenny slipped her little frail white hand into her husband's.

"What courage your love gives me," she murmured, softly. "Thanks to that, I can even bear suffering bravely."

"Then you have not been feeling as well as usual to-day?" exclaimed Yvon, anxiously. "Tell me, Jenny, why didn't you send for the doctor?"

"I did not need to, for have I not a great and learned physician in whom I have perfect confidence, and who I am sure will not refuse me any attention I ask?"

"Yes, I understand. I am that great and learned physician, I suppose."

"And could I select a more careful and devoted one?"

"No, certainly not; so go on and consult me, Jenny."

"My dear Yvon, though I have not undergone any very severe suffering to-day, I have experienced and I still experience a sort of vague uneasiness, as well as an unusual depression of spirits. Oh, don't be alarmed, it is nothing serious; besides, you can cure me completely if you will, my beloved doctor."

"How? Tell me at once."

"But will you do it?"

"Why, Jenny,--what a question!"

"I repeat that my cure depends absolutely and entirely upon you."

"So much the better, then, for, in that case, you are cured. Go on; explain, my charming invalid."

"Remain with me, then."

"Have I any intention of leaving you?"

"But the entertainment this evening?" ventured the young wife, hesitatingly.

"I dressed early, you see, so as to be able to remain with you until the very last moment."

"Don't leave me this evening, Yvon."

"What?"

"Give up this fete for my sake."

"You cannot mean it, surely."

"Stay at home with me."

"But, Jenny, you yourself insisted that--"

"That you should accept the invitation. That is true. This very morning I was rejoicing that you were going to have this diversion,--you who lead such an extremely quiet life."

"Then why have you changed your mind so suddenly?"

"How can I tell?" responded the young wife, much embarra.s.sed. "It is only an absurd and senseless whim on my part, doubtless. All I know is that you would make me happy, oh, very happy, if you would do what I ask, absurd and ridiculous as it may appear to you."

"My poor darling," Yvon said, tenderly, after a moment's reflection, "in your condition, and nervous as you are, I can easily understand why you should, in spite of your good sense, be beset with all sorts of contradictory notions, and that you should be averse in the evening to what you most wished for in the morning. Do you suppose I should think of such a thing as blaming you for that?"

"You are the best and most kind-hearted man in the world, Yvon!"

exclaimed the young wife, her eyes filling with tears of joy, for she felt sure now that her husband was going to accede to her wishes. "There are not many men who would be so patient with the whims of a poor woman who knows neither what she wants nor why she wants it."

"But in my character of physician I do, you see," replied Yvon, kissing his wife's brow tenderly. "Look," he added, glancing at the clock, "it is now nine o'clock; ten minutes to go, ten to return, and a quarter of an hour to remain at the ball,--it is a matter of three-quarters of an hour at most. I will be back here by ten o'clock, I promise you."

"What, Yvon, you persist in your determination to attend this entertainment?"

"Just to show myself there, that is all."

"I beg you will not, Yvon."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't go."

"What! not even for a few moments?"

"Do not leave me this evening, I entreat you."