"The dear little thing is sleeping very sweetly, now. Ah, my good Suzanne, with a husband and child like mine, what more could I ask for in this world, unless it be a little better health so I may be able to nurse my next child, for do you know, Suzanne, I used to be dreadfully jealous of you for acting as part mother to my little Sabine? But now my health is better, it seems to me I have nothing more to ask for. Even my dear Yvon's impetuosity, which used to cause me so much uneasiness, seems to have subsided of late. Poor fellow, how often I witnessed his efforts to overcome, not a fault, but his very nature. Had it been a fault, with his energy and determination of character, he would have overcome it years and years ago; but at last, thank Heaven, his disposition seems to have become much more even." "Undoubtedly, madame," replied Suzanne, "monsieur's temper is much more even now." "And when I think how kind and gentle he has always been to me," continued the young wife, tenderly, "and how I have never been the object or the cause of any of the terrible ebullitions of temper which I have witnessed with so much terror, and which have often proved so disastrous in their consequences to him, I realise how devotedly he must love me!" "He would indeed be a madman to fly in a passion with one as kind and gentle as you, my poor dear lady." "Hush, flatterer," replied Jenny, smiling. "It is not my amiability of disposition, but his love for me that prevents it, and though I am almost ashamed to confess it, I cannot help feeling proud sometimes when I think that I have never excited any feeling but the tenderest consideration in such an impassioned and indomitable nature." "Monsieur is really one of the best-hearted men in the world, madame, and, as you say, it must be his temperament that carries him away in spite of himself, for unfortunately with characters like these the merest trifle may lead to a terrible explosion." "What you say is so true, Suzanne, that my poor husband, in order not to expose himself to dangers of that kind, spends nearly all his evenings at home with me instead of seeking amusement as so many persons do in public places where his quick temper might involve him in endless difficulties." "I think, madame, with you, that for your own peace of mind, and monsieur's as well, it is advisable to avoid all places where there is any danger of one's anger being aroused, so, madame, if you will take my advice--" "Well, Suzanne, why do you pause so suddenly? What is the matter?" "I--I--" "Go on, Suzanne." "Don't you fear that the masquerade ball this evening--" "Well?" "Is a rather dangerous place for monsieur to go?" "What an absurd idea!" "There will be a great many people there." "True; but they will be the best people in town, as the ball is given by the father-in-law of the presiding judge."