Bertha wore a dress of light grey silk, whose subdued shade harmonised admirably with the delicacy of her transparent complexion. On one side of the fire-place stood a pianoforte loaded with music, and over the mantel-piece were suspended two portraits of unequal sizes, representing the father and mother of Bertha. A considerable number of plain black frames, containing copper-plate engravings, the works of Pierre Raimond, were hung around the small chamber, the walls of which were covered with embossed red paper, that gave it an air of lightness and cheerfulness very different from the rest of the apartments; and on the chimney-piece stood an old enamelled clock and two small blue and white candlesticks of Limoges enamel, which had once belonged to Bertha's mother, who had received them from her husband as a wedding present. A tear which had long hung suspended from the thick lashes of Bertha's eyelid fell on her cheek like a liquid pearl. Her bosom heaved convulsively--a sudden tremor seized her frame, while a deep flush suffused her countenance, as again she sunk into her former gloomy abstraction. Let us briefly explain the cause both of Bertha's sadness and utter dejection. During her last residence in Lorraine, M. de Brévannes had bestowed the most marked attention on one of the female attendants belonging to his wife. The insolence displayed by the creature thus improperly distinguished opened the eyes of Madame de Brévannes as to its real cause, or, at least, infused into her mind such strong suspicions as to call for the immediate dismissal of the guilty woman. This trying circumstance had occurred a few days before the return of M. de Brévannes to Paris, and had left a bitter feeling of injury in the mind of Bertha, who, however she might previously have smarted under her husband's infidelity, had never experienced a similar humiliation. Four o'clock struck, and aroused Madame de Brévannes from her reverie. Absorbed in her deep and painful meditation, she had taken no note of the hours, and was surprised to find the night so completely gone. At this moment a carriage stopped at the door, and Bertha began to regret having sat up so late. Her husband had peremptorily forbidden her ever awaiting his return. The servants, also, by his orders, retired to rest whether their master were in or not. He usually entered by a small side door, of which he alone had the key, but he was compelled to pass through Bertha's sitting-room in order to reach one of the two sleeping-apartments which communicated with it. At the sight of her husband, Bertha rose to meet him, endeavouring, by a forced smile, to deprecate the storm she dreaded and anticipated.