Ernest and his little Marguerite had gone to pass the summer in the country, in a solitary region where they saw no one but each other and their children; but they were never bored together; how I envied their happiness! I avoided Bélan, for he annoyed me; one day he believed that he was betrayed, the next day he was certain of his wife’s loyalty. I could not understand how a man could remain in that condition; if I had had the one-hundredth part of his reasons for being jealous, I would long ago have found out the truth of the matter. Nor did I enjoy meeting the Girauds; the sight of them reminded me of too many epochs of my life. Giraud never saw me without finding a way to insinuate a complimentary remark about my wedding, and the magnificence of the supper during the ball. It vexed me to hear that day mentioned; moreover, it seemed to me that there was a touch of malice, of mockery, in their manner of congratulating me on my good fortune. Perhaps I saw things in the wrong light. In general, society afforded me little amusement. I went about to forget myself, but I enjoyed the theatre much more; there a man may do what he pleases: he may listen or think. Sometimes I took my little Henriette there; she seemed already to understand the plays, and I was so happy when I had my daughter by my side! I had also been to Livry again, to see my son; but he was not yet old enough to understand me and to answer me as his sister did. I went occasionally to my mother’s. I had never mentioned my domestic troubles to her; what would be the use? One should keep such things to himself as much as possible. My mother would have told me that I was old enough to know how to manage my wife and my household. I did not want her to make the slightest remonstrance to her daughter-in-law. For I knew that a mother-in-law’s advice is very rarely listened to. It was much better therefore to say nothing, and that is what I did. Winter had come again, and with it balls and receptions. Eugénie determined to set apart one day in the week to receive our numerous acquaintances. I allowed her to invite whom she chose. There were moments when I thought that she was touched by my readiness to satisfy all her wishes; I saw that she was sometimes sad and pensive and preoccupied; but I saw no sign of coming back to me, although she was more free and gentle with me; on the contrary, she seemed to avoid me more, and to dread any manifestations of affection on my part. I wondered what could be taking place in her heart. Dulac came to our house very often. That young man had become a terrible bore to me. He seemed to be always there, between Eugénie and me. But how could I forbid him the house? He was exceedingly polite to me and most obliging to my wife. Everybody liked him; I alone did not agree with the rest of the world.