"Monsieur," said Justine, "madame your wife is very sick; when she came home from a ball three days ago, she began to vomit blood; they think she can't get well, and she wants to see you." Nicette turned pale; I saw her stagger, but she ran to fetch my hat. "Go, my dear," she said; "go at once; your wife is waiting for you. If necessary, stay with her, don't come back! But try to save her life." I hurried after Justine and returned to that house which I had thought that I should never enter again. How everything was changed! What confusion everywhere! I found my way at last to my wife's apartment and approached her bed; I could hardly recognize her. Was this that Pélagie who used to be so fresh and pretty?--I forgot her faults, and I was conscious of no feeling for her but pity. She held out her hand. "I wanted to see you before I died," she said, in a faint voice. "Eugène, forgive my wrongdoing. I am punished for it, as you see. If I had listened to you, I should not be standing now on the edge of the grave." I tried to comfort her, to revive hope in her heart; but I could not; she knew too well that the mainspring of life was broken. I took my place by her side. The day passed without bringing any change in her condition, but the night was terrible; and about five in the morning, Pélagie ceased to live. I shed tears over the remains of a woman whose life was so brief and whose happiness was so deceptive. Having completed the business to which this sad event required me to attend, and having paid my wife's debts, I returned to Nicette. "Well?" she said; "your wife?" "She is no more!" "Oh! my dear, let us weep over her fate! she might have been so happy if she had loved you!" To divert my thoughts from that occurrence, I formed the plan of taking a journey with Nicette. That would complete her training; the sight of Switzerland and Italy is always profitable to those who can think and remember. Nicette was ready to go with me; wherever she could be with me, she was perfectly happy; it mattered little to her under what sky or in what climate we were to pass our lives. To her I was the world, pleasure, happiness. Ah! Nicette! love me so always! If you should ever be false to me, then I should know that no one on earth is worthy of love or faith. We started in a berlin which I had bought, so that we were free to halt wherever some monument should arouse our admiration, or some fact of history our interest; that is the only agreeable and profitable way to travel. We made the tour of Switzerland. I was anxious to show Nicette the splendors of Mont Cenis, and we stopped at an inn near the foot of the mountain. I observed that there was a great commotion in the house. I ordered a room, and the maid who showed us the way to it kept uttering exclamations. "What has happened here, in heaven's name?" I asked her; "you all seem much excited. You have guests here, I suppose?"