It was true. But a sudden change had come over Jeanne. Her energy had given way. She felt very weary. The idea of going away with Cayrol, and of being alone with him in the carriage frightened her. She looked vaguely at her husband, and saw, in a sort of mist, this great fat man, with a protruding shirt-front, rolls of red flesh on his neck above his collar, long fat ears which only needed gold ear-rings, and his great hairy hands, on the finger of one of which shone the new wedding-ring. Then, in a rapid vision, she beheld the refined profile, the beautiful blue eyes, and the long, fair mustache of Serge. A profound sadness came over the young woman, and tears rushed to her eyes. "What is the matter with you? You are crying!" exclaimed Cayrol, anxiously. "It is nothing; my nerves are shaken. I am thinking of this chateau which bears my name. Here I spent my youth, and here my father died. A thousand ties bind me to this dwelling, and I cannot leave it without being overcome." "Another home awaits you, luxuriantly adorned," murmured Cayrol, "and worthy of receiving you. It is there you will live henceforth with me, happy through me, and belonging to me." Then, ardently supplicating her, he added: "Let us go, Jeanne!" He tried to take her in his arms, but the young wife disengaged herself. "Leave me alone!" she said, moving away. Cayrol looked at her in amazement. "What is it? You are trembling and frightened!" He tried to jest: "Am I so very terrible, then? Or is it the idea of leaving here that troubles you so much? If so, why did you not tell me sooner? I can understand things. Let us remain here for a few days, or as long as you like. I have arranged my affairs so as to be at liberty. Our little paradise can wait for us." He spoke pleasantly, but with an undercurrent of anxiety. Jeanne came slowly to him, and calmly taking his hand, said: "You are very good." "I am not making any efforts to be so," retorted Cayrol, smiling. "What do I ask? That you may be happy and satisfied." "Well, do you wish to please me?" asked the young wife. "Yes!" exclaimed Cayrol, warmly, "tell me how." "Madame Desvarennes will be very lonely tomorrow when her daughter will be gone. She will need consoling--" "Ah, ah," said Cayrol, thinking that he understood, "and you would like--" "I would like to remain some time with her. You could come every day and see us. I would be very grateful to you, and would love you very much!" "But--but--but--!" exclaimed Cayrol, much confounded, "you cannot mean what you say, Jeanne! What, my dear? You wish me to return alone to Paris to-night? What would my servants say? You would expose me to ridicule!" Poor Cayrol made a piteous face. Jeanne looked at him as she had never looked before. It made his blood boil. "Would you be so very ridiculous for having been delicate and tender?"