I went out immediately after dinner. I walked aimlessly, but I walked on and on; nothing is so good as the fresh air to calm ill humor. But it was cold; and I finally went into the Variétés. That is a theatre where there is usually something to laugh at, and it is so pleasant to laugh! I took a seat in the orchestra. I spied Bélan there, no longer becurled and in a tight-fitting coat, as he always used to be before his marriage, but clad in a full-skirted frock coat, buttoned to the chin, and with a solemn face which in no wise resembled that of a man who was in search of conquests. Was that the effect of marriage? Could it be that I myself had undergone the same metamorphosis? I was glad to meet Bélan; I hoped that the meeting would divert my thoughts from my own troubles. I took a seat beside him. The ex-lady-killer was so absorbed in his own reflections that he did not recognize me. “Well, Bélan, are you enjoying the play?” “Hallo! it’s my old friend Blémont! What a lucky meeting! Since we have been married, we hardly see each other at all. Ah! we had lots of fun together in the old days, when we were bachelors! those were the good old times!” “What! do you repent already of being married?” “No, certainly not; I only said that in jest. Oh! I am very happy; but what I mean is that a married man owes it to himself not to run wild like a bachelor. However, I am exceedingly happy.” “I congratulate you. How does it happen that madame is not with you?” “Oh! she is dining out with her mother, at a house where they couldn’t invite me, because I would have made thirteen at the table. I am going to call for her. But as it is a house where they dine very late, Armide told me not to hurry, not to come until between ten and eleven. That is why I came here to pass the time. But how is it with you, my dear Blémont? I thought that you never left your adored wife; everybody speaks of you as a pair of turtledoves.” “Oh! turtledoves don’t always agree. We have had a little quarrel and I came to the theatre for distraction.” “The deuce! really? you have had a quarrel? Well, that’s like me. I often have quarrels with Armide, but that doesn’t prevent me from being happy. They are little clouds which soon pass away.” “And does your mother-in-law still weep all the time?” “Oh! don’t speak of my mother-in-law! I admit that she is my nightmare; it is she who stirs up her daughter. I know well enough that she doesn’t do it from any bad motive; she is too noble for that. But when one doesn’t come up to the mark in a salutation or in any sort of ceremony, when one does not offer his hand quickly enough, why there is no end to the reproaches and complaints. However, I am very happy; although those devilish Girauds have already tried to make people think that I am a cuckold.” “What! the Girauds have said----”