"You weep--dear sister!--my unhappiness makes you shed tears. Oh!

forgive me for coming here and grieving you by the story of my suffering."

"Yes--it does grieve me to know that you are unhappy! But, after all, it seems to me that you ought to try--that you do not make enough effort to divert your thoughts; you see, when one has no hope, one ought to forget."

"Oh! that makes no difference at all."

"Yes, it is possible.--How long since you returned to Paris?"

"Only last evening; and, as you see, I came to you at once this morning."

"Yes--to talk to me about her!"

"I admit it--but to see you, too,--you who have always shown me so much affection, and whom I am so happy to call my sister still!"

"Oh! of course--because that was the name you gave me when you were to marry f.a.n.n.y! But you don't know--I have not dared to tell you that father says that you must not come to our house any more!"

"Not come here any more! Why not, pray?"

"Why, because of that unfortunate duel----"

"Duel! What do you mean? What duel?"

"What! you don't know? Hasn't your uncle told you about it?"

"I told you that I only arrived last night; my uncle talked about nothing but matters of business, which are of much more importance in his eyes than anything else. Tell me what duel you are talking about?"

"Do you remember the man who dined with you on the day of my sister's wedding?"

"Yes, a curious creature whom I happened to meet--and who took pity on the state of frenzy I was in at that time."

"Was he a friend of yours?"

"As I tell you, I had known him only a few hours; but I had lost my head that day; you know that better than anybody, dear Adolphine, for you found time, even on that day, to come to me and say a few comforting words.--But what about that man?"

"Well, at night, when my sister went away from the ball with her husband, he was standing near, just as they were entering their carriage. That man--he was drunk, no doubt, but still he insulted my sister."

"The villain! He dared----"

"Yes, he said: 'There goes the faithless f.a.n.n.y!'--My sister, who heard the words plainly, told me herself. Was that an insult? Tell me frankly, Monsieur Gustave, hadn't you yourself applied that name to my sister more than once that day?"

"It is quite possible; but I was out of my head, I didn't know what I was saying. That did not give that fellow, whose very name I don't remember, the right to repeat my words."

"Auguste heard him, and the next day he fought a duel with the man."

"And what was the result?"

"A sword-thrust in my brother-in-law's forearm, which forced him to carry his arm in a sling at least six weeks."

"Mon Dieu! that incident may well have occasioned unfortunate scenes between the husband and wife; it may have disturbed the domestic happiness of--your sister. She probably accused me of being the original cause of the duel! This is maddening!"

"Don't be alarmed, Monsieur Gustave! you don't know f.a.n.n.y! The affair affected her very little, her happiness wasn't disturbed by it for a single minute. She goes to some festivity, amuses herself in some way, every day! Oh! she is happy."

"So much the better! And her husband--he adores her still, I fancy?"

"As to that, I can't answer. If they adore each other, it hardly appears on the surface!"

"What! f.a.n.n.y doesn't love her husband?"

"I don't say that she doesn't love him! but my sister isn't capable of loving like us--like you, I mean. She has so much to take up her time in the way of gowns, head-dresses, new styles, and so forth! How do you suppose she can find time to love her husband?"

"However, I am entirely innocent in this matter of the duel."

"Oh! that is what I have always told father, who has only known it a few days, by the way. For, as you can imagine, they didn't publish it.

Monsieur Monleard's injury was supposed to have been caused by a fall on the stairs."

"But why doesn't your father want me to come here? It wasn't a crime to love his elder daughter and to aspire to her hand! It is true, I was very poor, then; to-day, I could offer her more; my uncle, who is very well satisfied with the way I attend to business now, said to me at breakfast this morning: 'From to-day, I give you an interest in my business, and I guarantee you not less than ten thousand francs a year, whether there are any profits or not.'"

"Ah! that is very nice, Monsieur Gustave; I am very glad for you."

"Dear little sister! If you knew how indifferently I received the news of this increase in my income! Ah! that isn't what I look to for happiness!"

"Nor I, either! But, as so many people think differently, probably we are wrong."

"I am thinking about your father, who doesn't want me to come here any more."

"In the first place, he was convinced that there would be no need to say anything to you about it; that you would never have any desire to come to our house again."

"Why so, pray?"

"I don't know why; for my part, I didn't think as he did. Something told me that you would come--to hear about f.a.n.n.y--to talk about her. I guessed right, did I not?"

"Yes, yes! you read my heart."

"For I know very well that that was the only reason it occurred to you to come here."

"Do you think that I am not fond of you--of you and your father?"

"Oh! I don't say that; but my father fears--suppose you should meet my sister here?"

"I should be able to act with her as with a person who was a total stranger to me. Does she come to see you often?"

"No, not often. She has so many other calls to make! She knows so many people now!"

At that moment the bell rang.

"Mon Dieu!" said Adolphine; "if it should be my father!"

"Why, I will go and offer him my hand, and I am sure that he won't refuse it."