“But until then not a word--no indiscretion!” “I am as dumb as a dead man.” Pettermann returned to Paris. I felt more content with myself, better satisfied; and yet--I may confess it to myself--I had no love for Eugénie--no. But perhaps it was for the very reason that I had no love for her that it was possible for me to return to her. I saw in her the mother of my children, and I did not wish to condemn her to never-ending misery. We should never be to each other as we had been--that was impossible. I would treat her with consideration and affection, and time would do the rest. I should have to cease entirely to see Caroline. Ah! that was not the least of the sacrifices I should have made to my children. But, since everything was decided, since my resolution was irrevocable, I determined to go to see her on the next day for the last time, and to tell her that I was going back to my wife. She would think that I was influenced by her advice, her entreaties; I would not undeceive her. I returned to the salon where all the others were assembled. I determined to forget myself, to be cheerful and merry. I played with the children, I kissed Madame Ernest, and I laughed with her husband. “What’s the matter with him to-day?” Ernest and his wife asked each other; “how happy he seems!” “I am happy.” “What has happened to make you so cheerful?” “I have had news that pleased me.” “From whom?” “Oh! you shall know later.” The husband and wife exchanged glances; but I felt sure that they did not guess my purpose, and I continued at once: “What is going on to-day? I feel strongly inclined to amuse myself.” “Why, we might go to the ball,” said Ernest; “to-day is the last Saint-Mandé ball, and they say that it will be very fine.” “I haven’t been to one of them since I have been living here; I should not be sorry to see it. We will go. Do you agree?” “Oh! I don’t go to balls,” said Marguerite; “I don’t care for them; I prefer to stay with the children. You two may go. But don’t speak to any women; for there are women at all these balls in the suburbs of Paris.” We promised to be good; and immediately after dinner Ernest and I started for the place where the local balls were held. As the weather was superb, there were in addition to the people from Saint-Mandé and from Vincennes, many Parisians, who desired to enjoy one more rural festivity. Numerous carriages were standing on the outskirts of the crowd. “The deuce! this will be magnificent!” said Ernest. “I’ll bet that we shall find more than one actress here; the princesses of the wings delight in open air balls.” “You know that you promised your wife to be good.” “Oh! my friend, we always promise, and we keep our promise if we can!--Come, my dear Blémont, the music is striking up.” In fact, the dancing had begun. There was a great crowd; many pretty dresses, some peasants, a few bourgeoises, and a large number of kept women. It is the same at all open air balls.