He was on the point of throwing himself at her feet, when Corinne appeared. She had profited by her absence, and was now perfectly resplendent! Imagine a low-necked dress, covered with ruffles--little ones, wide ones, ruffles trimmed with fringe; ruffles trimmed with red and yellow silk; ruffles in every direction. The dress was made short in front so as to show the large feet, squeezed into slippers a size too small; and showing, also, the black stockings embroidered with gold-thread. Odette nearly laughed outright, but leaning towards Paul, she said: "Come back this evening." He was sorry to leave her so soon, but he obeyed his divinity and left, without a glance at Mme. Descoutures. "Where has M. Frager gone?" she asked, settling herself in an arm-chair. "He has gone home." "Gone home--just as I return!" These few words contained the very essence of bitter disappointment. Odette in her preoccupation, did not notice it, however, and simply asked: "Is my father in his study?" "Yes, I believe so; but you know he does not like to be disturbed at his work." "Oh! he will not mind. I want to tell him something important." "What is it?" "That I am going to be married." "To be married!" "Yes; to M. Paul Frager. I have just accepted him;" and she quietly walked off, leaving Corinne a prey to the most intense astonishment and disappointment. This state did not last long. It was succeeded by the most violent anger against Odette, who had stolen her lover--for she never doubted but that the young man had come to see her, and, during her absence, Odette had bewitched him in some way. Medea, jealous of Creusa; Hermione, furious at Andromache; Calypso and Eucharis; none of the betrayed lovers of mythology or fiction hated their rivals more than Corinne hated Odette from henceforth. Odette never suspected it. If she had, she would not have cared. But Achilles was murdered by Paris, the coward; and a little gnat can drive an elephant nearly distracted; the proof of which is that the hatred of Corinne--that seemingly inoffensive, silly and vain nonentity--was the cause of untold misery to Odette. CHAPTER V. The "venerable Mme. Bricourt" is a round, plump little old woman. Her face is so full of wrinkles that it looks like a last year's apple, still clinging to the branch. She is an artist in her way, as she possesses the talent of saying the cruelest things about her friends, while apparently praising them; and more than all, shows a gentle sympathy to them that appeals to their hearts, so that they confide all their secrets to her. She wished her son to marry Odette, solely because M. Laviguerie was one of the lions of the day; and, as nothing would be refused to such a celebrated man, member of two academies, Mme. Bricourt thought that her son might attain to some high office as his son-in-law. At present he is merely a civil engineer.