Several weeks passed. It was a Thursday; and Fanny, who had not been at her father's for a long time, said to Gustave when she saw him during the day:

"I must go to dine with father to-day, my dear; I trust that you will come there this evening?"

"As you will be there, you may be certain that I will come. By the way, I saw that there was an apartment to rent in a nice house on Rue Fontaine. Do you like that quarter?"

"Very much."

"Very well; I will go some time to-day to look at it, and if it seems to me to be suitable I will tell you this evening, so that you can go to see it. For ten months have passed; the time is not very far away when I shall be able to call you my wife! so it is none too soon for me to see about getting an apartment ready."

"Do so, my dear; you can tell me to-night if you have found what we want."

About five o'clock, the widow went to her father's. Monsieur Gerbault always welcomed his daughter kindly, and Adolphine did her utmost to smile on her sister.

"So you're really going to marry Gustave this time, are you?" said Monsieur Gerbault.

"Why shouldn't I, father? Do you think I shall be doing wrong?"

"No—but I regret that you didn't marry him a year ago."

"Why, father, it seems to me that I acted very wisely! Gustave had only a very modest salary then. Monsieur MonlÉard offered me a fortune, and I could not hesitate; the sequel didn't come up to my hopes; but certainly no one could have foreseen that."

"But you are very lucky to fall in with a man who still loves you after you have once cast him off."

"Mon Dieu! father, if Gustave had not loved me, some other man would have turned up—that's all there is to that."

"Possibly; at all events, I see that you have an answer for everything."

Adolphine listened to her sister with an air of amazement, but she did not venture to make a single reflection; she kept to herself the thoughts which Fanny's remarks inspired; and she avoided, so far as she possibly could, any conversation with her on the subject of her approaching marriage to Gustave.

The evening brought to Monsieur Gerbault's salon his faithful whist players, and Gustave, who shook hands warmly with the man whom he already looked upon as his father-in-law, and affectionately with Adolphine. She, by an involuntary movement, withdrew her hand at first; but the next moment she forced herself to smile, and offered her hand to Gustave, saying:

"I beg your pardon. I thought you were Monsieur de Raincy."

"And she absolutely refuses to give her hand to him," said Fanny, with a laugh, "although he offers his name in exchange for it. Don't you think, Gustave, that she makes a great mistake in refusing that young man?"

"Why so, if she doesn't love him?"

"As if people married for love!"

Realizing that she had said something which might distress Gustave, the young woman hastily added:

"When a woman has never been married, she ought to be reasonable; with a widow, it's different; she can afford to obey the dictates of her heart."

These words speedily restored the serenity of Gustave's brow, which had become a little clouded. A moment later, Monsieur Batonnin arrived, and, having saluted the company, said, with a radiant expression:

"I have just met someone, whom you will probably see this evening, for when I said: 'I am going to pass the evening at Monsieur Gerbault's,' he exclaimed: 'Oh! I mean to go there, too, if only for a moment.'"

"Who is it?" queried Monsieur Gerbault.

"Someone who is very agreeable—just back from Italy. What! can't you guess? Monsieur le Comte de la BÉriniÈre."

"Ah! the dear count! Has he returned?"

"Only yesterday. He instantly asked me for all the news. When I told him that Madame MonlÉard was a widow, he was tremendously surprised; he couldn't get over it."

"Mon Dieu! how stupid that man is!" muttered Gustave, glancing at Fanny.

Since the announcement of the Comte de la BÉriniÈre's return, she seemed disturbed and preoccupied. In a few moments, she left her seat between her sister and Gustave, went to the window for a moment, as if to get a breath of air, and then, instead of returning to her former seat, sat down near the whist table.

Adolphine followed her sister with her eyes, and did not lose a single one of her movements. Meanwhile, Gustave, seeing Fanny seat herself at a distance, drew nearer to Adolphine, and said:

"Your sister, I see, wishes me to tell you of our delightful plans for the future; for I have had no chance to talk with you lately, dear Adolphine; I have been here several times, but have failed to find you."

"Yes, I know it."

"I think that you are not indifferent to what interests me, that you take pleasure in my happiness. You saw me when I was so unhappy! I am sure that you want to see me happy now."

"Yes, of course I do. A love like yours well deserves to be reciprocated."

Gustave began to lay before Adolphine all the plans he had formed for the future, when he should be her brother-in-law. Adolphine listened with only half an ear; she seemed much more interested in watching her sister, who pretended to take a deep interest in the game of whist; but soon the arrival of the Comte de la BÉriniÈre caused a general movement. Everyone congratulated the traveller on the happy influence which the climate of Italy seemed to have had on his health.

"Yes, I am very well indeed," said the count, who, after bowing coldly to Adolphine, eagerly approached her sister. "Italy's a very beautiful country, but it isn't equal to France, especially Paris! I tell you, there is nothing like our Parisian women; and what I look at first of all, in any country, is the women."

"Still, you have stayed away a long while, monsieur le comte," said the widow, motioning to Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre to take a seat by her side, the gesture being accompanied by her most charming smile.

The count hastened to obey; and said to her, almost in a whisper:

"I have, in truth, been absent more than a year; and, meanwhile, certain things have happened which it was impossible to foresee. Permit me to offer you my condolence on your widowhood."

"Yes, I am a widow, I have become free again; it is more than ten months since it happened. Truly, it could hardly have been anticipated! You must find me greatly changed, do you not? I have grown old and thin—and then, this costume is so dismal!"

"In other words, you are still captivating; indeed, if such a thing were possible, I should say that you are even lovelier than you were. As for your dress—what does that matter? You adorn whatever you wear."

"Oh! monsieur le comte, you flatter me; you don't mean what you say."

"Do I not? I mean it and feel it; you are an enchantress!"

"Italy is where you must have seen the pretty women!"

"Yes, there are many of them there; but I say again, they can't hold a candle to Parisian women in general, and to you in particular."

"Oh! hush! Are you no longer in love with my sister?"

"Your sister? Faith! no; she refused my hand; I bear her no ill-will for it; for, frankly, I am very glad of it now."

"Why so, pray?"

"Oh! I can't tell you here."

"Very well! then you must come to see me, and tell me."

"Do you give me leave to come to pay my respects to you?"

"More than that, I count upon it."

"You are adorable."

It seemed to Gustave that Fanny's conversation with the count was unconscionably long. He could not see all the coquettish little grimaces with which the widow accompanied her words, because she had taken pains to turn her chair so that she was not facing the man she was to marry; but he thought it very strange that Fanny could pass so long a time without thinking of him, without wanting him near her. The young man walked through the salon, gazing at the young widow, and sometimes stopping beside her. She did not appear to pay the slightest heed to him.

Being unable longer to control his impatience, he decided to interrupt their conversation, and said aloud to Fanny:

"My dear Fanny, I went to-day to see that apartment on Rue Fontaine—you know—that I spoke to you about this morning?"

The widow was perceptibly annoyed. However, she replied, with a surprised air:

"What! what apartment? I don't remember. Oh! yes, yes, I know what you mean."

"Well, the apartment is very well arranged and very attractive. I am confident that you will like it; but you must look at it immediately, for the chances are that it will be let very soon."

"Very well, very well; I will go to look at it.—Oh! Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre, you went to Naples, didn't you? Did you see Vesuvius vomit flame? That is something I am very curious to see. Do tell me what a volcano is like?"

Gustave walked away, far from satisfied. It seemed to him that his future spouse was too deeply interested in Italy. He returned to Adolphine, lost in thought, and sat down beside her. She said nothing, but she looked at him and read his thoughts.

Monsieur Gerbault succeeded at last in talking with the count. Whereupon Gustave returned to Fanny, and said to her:

"Aren't we going? You said that you should go home early."

But the little widow, who did not choose to have the count see her go away with Gustave, replied:

"It's too early; my father would be angry if I should go now."

"But you said——"

"Mon Dieu! you seem to be in a great hurry to go!"

Gustave bit his lips and said no more. Monsieur Batonnin joined him, and said with a smile:

"You don't seem to be doing anything, Monsieur Gustave. Don't you play cards?"

"I don't care for cards, monsieur."

"You prefer to talk with the ladies—I can understand that. You have been travelling, too; and the ladies like to hear about travels. Have you seen any volcanoes?"

"No, monsieur."

And Gustave turned his back on Batonnin, who smiled at his own reflection in a mirror.

The count soon took his hat, and was about to withdraw, without a word, as the custom is in society; but Fanny, who had kept her eyes on him, found an excuse for standing in his path, and said to him in an undertone:

"I shall expect you to-morrow."

Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre replied by a graceful inclination, and disappeared.

A few moments later, Fanny said to Gustave:

"Well, monsieur; if you want to go, I am at your service."

"I am at yours, rather, madame."

"Let us go."

Adolphine went up to Gustave of her own motion, and pressed his hand affectionately.

In the street, the young man began:

"Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre's conversation evidently interested you very much? You talked with nobody but him; you left your sister and me, and forgot all about us."

"Why, I enjoyed listening to what he told me about Italy. He is very pleasant, and amusing to listen to. I didn't suppose that you would see any harm in that."

"I see no harm in the conversation; but I am horribly bored when you talk to anybody else for long. I am sorry that you don't feel the same way."

"Oh! what childishness! As if I were not always there!—How my head does ache! I shall have a sick headache to-morrow, I am sure."

"You will go to look at that apartment, won't you?"

"Yes, if my head doesn't ache; but if it does, I certainly shall not stir from my bed."

They arrived at Fanny's door, and the future husband and wife parted much more coldly than usual.

The next morning, the young widow gave these orders to her servant:

"If Monsieur le Comte de la BÉriniÈre calls, you will admit him at once. If Monsieur Gustave comes, you will tell him that I have a sick headache, that I am asleep; and you will not let him in on any pretext. Do you understand?"

"Yes, madame."

Fanny took the greatest pains with her hair, her dress, and every part of her toilet; she omitted nothing that was adapted to captivate, to dazzle, to seduce.

At one o'clock, Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre was ushered into the pretty creature's boudoir, where she awaited him, seated in a graceful attitude on a sofa, and motioned him to a seat by her side.

"You see, fair lady, that I take advantage of the permission accorded me," said the count, gallantly kissing Fanny's little hand.

"It was presumptuous in me, perhaps, to tell you that I expected you; but I wanted to talk with you, and one has little chance to talk in society."

"You give me the most delicious pleasure—a tÊte-À-tÊte with you! It is a priceless favor to me. It is very true that in society it is difficult to say—all that one thinks; and last night, at your father's, there was a young man who seemed to be vexed at our conversation."

"Oh! Gustave.—He's an old play-fellow of mine."

"An old play-fellow? Isn't he something more than that?"

"What! what do you mean?"

"Stay, charming widow, I will explain my meaning without beating about the bush. Yesterday, when he told me that you were a widow, Monsieur Batonnin told me also that you were to marry again very soon."

"Mon Dieu! what a chatterbox that Monsieur Batonnin is! what business is it of his?"

"It is quite possible that he's a chatterbox; but, tell me, is it the truth? Are you going to marry Monsieur Gustave, your old play-fellow?"

"Yes, it is true that there has been some talk of marriage between us; but it's a long way from that to an actual marriage."

"Really—you are not actually engaged to him?"

"Engaged? Not by any means!"

"But—that apartment that he spoke about last night, that he asked you to go to look at?"

"Why, it's an apartment that he is thinking of renting for himself, and he wants my advice as to the arrangement of the rooms; because a woman understands such things better than a man, don't you see? But now it's your turn, monsieur le comte, to tell me why you are so anxious to know whether my hand is at my disposition."

"Why, charming creature! can't you guess why? Don't you remember what I said to you one day, at your own house, soon after your marriage? I said: 'MonlÉard has been smarter than I, he has got ahead of me; for, if it had not been for him, I would have asked you to be Comtesse de la BÉriniÈre.'—Very good; what I could not do then, I should be very happy to do to-day. Now, you see, I don't propose to lose any time and let some other man get ahead of me; I go straight to the point. If you are not engaged, I offer you my name and my fortune; I will transform you into a fascinating countess."

"Oh! monsieur le comte, can I believe you? do you really mean what you say? I most certainly am not engaged—but my sister—you loved her?"

"I thought of your sister for a moment, solely with a view of entering your family. You cannot fear to make her unhappy by accepting my hand, since she refused it."

"True, the little fool! I wouldn't have refused it, I can tell you!"

"Very well; then you accept now—you consent to become a countess? Give me your hand, as a token of your consent."

Fanny pretended to be embarrassed, and lowered her eyes; but she gave her hand to the count, who threw himself at her feet, crying:

"I am the happiest of men!"

During this interview, Gustave had called and asked for Fanny; but the maid said to him:

"It is impossible for you to see her, monsieur; she has a sick headache; she is asleep, and told me not to wake her."

"And her order applies to me too?"

"Oh! yes, monsieur; you cannot see madame; her headache's very bad."