For some time past, my wife had been going more frequently than ever to balls and parties which lasted far into the night. I am no foe to gayeties, but I was afraid that her excessive indulgence in them would injure her health. I reproved her mildly, and she answered sharply; a dispute arose, and madame, who had taken a tone which was entirely new to her, and which surprised me in a woman who had always seemed so timid,--in the modest Pélagie,--put an end to the discussion by announcing that she proposed to have a separate room, so that she might be more at liberty. I asked nothing better. I had a bed put in the room adjoining my study, which was separated from my wife's bedroom by the salon, the reception room, and a small music room. I took possession of my new quarters that same evening. Raymond, being informed of the new arrangement, said that it was an excellent idea, and that it was all that we needed to make a most charming household. Pélagie spent money freely; with the purpose of trying to put a curb on the follies she was beginning to commit, I began to go into society with her. It would still have been easy for me to form intrigues, to make conquests; for a young husband is as warmly greeted in Paris as a bachelor in the provinces; but I had no inclination for those liaisons of a moment, for those amourettes which do not touch the heart; I was faithful, but not amorous. Raymond, too, was most constant in his pretended great friendship for us; often he was obliging enough to bring my wife home when I did not care to stay so late as she did; and as we no longer slept together, Madame Dorsan could come in whenever she pleased, and I know nothing about it. I ceased to say anything to her, for I noticed that she consistently did just the opposite of what I urged her to do. Still, I was afraid that her lungs, which were delicate, would suffer from such constant late hours. The next time that she was to go to a ball, I advised her to stay at home; she would not listen to me. I decided to go with her and to try to induce her to go home early. Raymond accompanied us to the festivity in question, which was very gorgeous and very largely attended. At midnight, satiated with dust and écarté, I urged my wife to retire. "What, monsieur!" replied Pélagie; "go away at the very pleasantest part of the evening! Oh! I propose to stay till the end! You can go home to bed; Monsieur Raymond will bring me home." What was one to say to a little woman who seemed so determined? I went up to Raymond, who anticipated my wishes. "My dear fellow, go home if you're tired; I'll bring madame home." "Will you? very good; I shall be much obliged." I left the house, saying to myself: "It's a great mistake to laugh at us poor husbands; for, upon my word, anyone else in our place would do just as we do."