"Madame is more beautiful without her usual coiffure," said the girl, as she gathered up the dark tresses of her mistress. "I shall place her diamond _aigrette_ in her hair, and she will turn all heads." "I have no such ambition, my good Marie," said Pauline, laughing. "Give me my fan and gloves, and fasten this bracelet for me." "_Tenez, madame_," said Marie, handing them; and Pauline ran down stairs, where her husband awaited her. He had just been fretted sufficiently to find fault with her dress. "You never wear jewels enough. Do you think I bought them to ornament your boudoir?" "I did not like to keep you waiting, _mon ami_. Shall I return and tell Marie to give me my necklace?" "Yes, and your bracelet to match. Your white arm, madame, was made to ornament," added M. de Vaissiere, assuming an air of gallantry. Pauline smiled, and ran back to her boudoir. In a few moments she returned blazing with jewels, inwardly lamenting the display, but ever ready to grant her husband's wish. He, too, smiled as she came forward, and taking her hand, led her to her carriage. Shortly after they were seated, the door opened, and the young Vicomte de H---- entered the box. He placed himself behind Pauline, and remained there for the rest of the evening, in eager, animated conversation. He was not only one of the most agreeable men of the day, but added to wit and versatility of genius, a handsome face, graceful bearing, and a noble heart; and while Pauline yielded to the charms of so delightful a companion, full of the dreams and hopes of youth, uttering sentiments that years ago had been hers, her husband sat silent and moody beside her. A pang went through his heart as he gazed upon her bright countenance, and remembered her youth, whose sunshine was extinguished by her marriage with him. He looked at the smooth, full cheek of her companion, the purple gloss of his raven locks, the fire of his eye, and listening to his gay tones, his brilliant repartees, and enthusiastic expressions, pictured him with a shudder the husband of Pauline. What would have been her life compared to the one she led with him. How different would have been the bridal! He thought of her gentleness, her cheerful compliance with his wishes, her calm, subdued look, her lonely hours, the void that must be in her heart; and as all these things passed, for the first time, through his mind, he clasped his hands in despair. He turned once more to look upon the wife he was but now beginning to appreciate. She, too, had fallen in a revery. Her beautiful head was bent, her long, dark lashes sweeping her cheek; and around her lips played a smile so sweet, that though he know her thoughts were far away in some pleasant wandering, he was sure he had no part in them.