The fact of my being seen publicly with a lady of her calibre in a frequented place need not of necessity have aroused suspicion. Was it that the mere presence of one perfectly right and loyal creature threw out falsehood and irregularity? We were often seen together--why should we now appear so at fault? Until now Raymonde had no inkling of anything between us Now the trembling of her lips a moment alarmed me. In the Sleeping Woods how could she have learned that one must control one’s self in public? I feared everything from her provincial education, lest it cause her to indulge ill-founded jealousy. Yet was not our sudden instinctive halt at sight of her unmistakable admission? I was soon reassured. Everything happened in the best possible manner. I asked her, I dared to invite her, to join us in the automobile, impudently; but was it not necessary to set her doubts at rest? “No,” she said, “I shall stay with Dilette.” “Are you not afraid it is too cold?” “The sun is strong, we have our furs.” “Well, then, we shall leave you. Shall I send the machine back for you?” “Yes, if you will, in about an hour.” During this brief colloquy, my little girl was running toward me. Her little three-year-old legs could not trot very quickly. She was already a reflective person. “Oh!” she said, seeing me, and seemed to be astonished, “there is papa.” She looked indeed like an exquisite little miniature in her little white hat and coat. Why had I never before noticed the charm of her wonderful colouring, her clear blue eyes and blond curls? Mme. de H--, responsive to every phase of beauty, stooped to talk to the child and was about to embrace her, but when Raymonde saw those painted lips so near the pure forehead of her little girl she quickly pulled Dilette toward her, and the kiss fell on the child’s curls. Mme. de H-- drew herself to her full height and looked fixedly at her, as at one whom she recognised to be inimical. My wife turned her head. One would have thought it an involuntary gesture. What importance is there in kissing a child? We said good-bye, and I went on my way with Mme. de H--. When we had gone some distance, Mme. de H-- broke the silence. “She knows.” I scoffed at so absurd a supposition. Mme. de H-- made no attempt to substantiate her conviction, but insisted authoritatively (with that marvellous voice of hers, which is one of her best weapons) that she was positive of it. “She knows, but will never speak of it,” she added. And I knew that my contradiction was only verbal. Deep in my own consciousness, I felt the truth, and in my imagination I pictured Raymonde sitting motionless as she watched me disappear with Mme. de H--, Dilette holding her hand, but not understanding her mother’s silence. She was thinking of another couple who walked under the trees at the Sleeping Woods and exchanged vows of everlasting faithfulness. We found my machine. Before she stepped in, Mme. de H-- turned to me, and asked briskly: