Impressions of this kind quickly produced that shrinking, that retreat of the soul, that we call by a big word, convenient by reason of its very mystery; that is, antipathy. Pierre had not felt this antipathy at the first meeting with Mademoiselle Berthe Lyonnet, now Madame du Prat. And yet she ought to have displeased him still more, among her original surroundings, between her father, the most narrow-minded of solicitors, and her mother, a veritable dowager of the better class of Parisian middle life. But at that time the romantic side of the young man was as yet dormant. The intoxication of love had awakened him, and he was now sensitive to shades of feminine nature that had been hidden from him before. Being too little accustomed to analyzing himself to recognize how the past few weeks had modified his original ideas, he explained the sentiment of dislike that he felt for Berthe du Prat by this simple reason, one that helps us to justify all our ignorance on the subject of another's character. "What is it that is changed in her?--She was so charming when she was married! And now she is quite a different woman.--Olivier has also changed. He used to be so tender, so loving, so gay! And now he is quite indifferent, almost melancholy. What has happened?--Can it be that he is not happy?" The carriage stopped before the Hôtel des Palmes just as this idea took shape in Pierre's mind with implacable clearness. He kept repeating the question while watching Olivier and his wife in the vestibule. They walked about, chatting of the orders to be given about the luggage and to the chambermaid. Their very step was so out of harmony, so different, that by itself it opened up a vista of secret divorce between the two. It is in such minute, in the instinctive fusion, the unison in the gesture of both, that the inner sympathy animating two lovers, or husband and wife, must be sought. Olivier and his wife walked out of step metaphorically, for expressions have to be created to characterize the shades of feeling that can neither be defined nor analyzed, but which are attested by indisputable evidence. And what a world of evidence was contained in a remark made by Du Prat, when the hotel clerk showed him the rooms that had been kept for him. The suite was composed of a large room with a big bed, two _cabinets de toilette_, one of which was huge, and a drawing-room. "But where are you going to put my bed?" he asked. "This dressing-room is very little." "I have another suite with a salon and two contiguous bedrooms," said the clerk; "but it is on the fourth floor." "That doesn't matter," replied Du Prat.