“I want only your heart,” she answered, “because you already have mine.” “You know that you have mine too, Raymonde, but there are laws--” “The law cannot provide for everything.” Why had I not determined upon the expedient of holding the property in common? Why did I adopt that of dividing it, and then pose as a benefactor? Why, after her refusal to accept, did I not alter the contract? And, not having done so, why did I not draw a will in her favour on the day after the wedding? We forget too often to make our deeds consistent with our attitude in life. Our carelessness, or our egotism, or some mental reservation which escapes superficial analysis, leads us astray. Raymonde came to me with empty hands. Her youth and innocence amazed me, and I bargained for her. Now, now, I understand her better. There was no need of a contract between us, or, if one was necessary, it was only in order that a brief and indissoluble formula might unite our fortunes. * * * Our triple alliance cut down the greater part of Mme. Mairieux’s guests. I confined my own list to my two witnesses, Col. Briare, my nearest relative, and Pierre Ducal, one of my most intimate friends. The Colonel appeared to be satisfied with my alliance when he learned that my future father-in-law was an old army officer. Outside of his troopers, nothing interested him. Every one, including Mme. Mairieux, who was enraptured at the prospect of beholding a uniform, called him “my Colonel.” When he learned that Raymonde was an excellent horseman, he congratulated me brusquely. Pierre Ducal made me more uneasy. He brought into our woods the atmosphere of Paris, the dreaded judgment of Paris. His sarcasm is almost famous there. It is he who utters the last word about things, he who with no authority but his own acts as arbiter of fashion. Why did I choose him rather than another? I hoped by offering him this compliment to secure him as an ally. Would it not be better to have him with me than against me? Clearly I foresaw hostilities and in asking him to help me I would disarm him. Then too, although I had of late seen little of him, he still possessed for me the fascination with which he had once dazzled me. At one time, when the world monopolized me, I had copied him, so strongly did his assurance and ease of manner appeal to me as the summit of attractiveness.