Dorsain sighed deeply when his eye rested on Lisette, then dancing under the trees, and laughing and conversing with her partner with all the selfish frivolity of her nature; but just at that moment her father approached her and whispered something in her ear, and even at that distance her uncle could see by the light of the lamps near which she stood, the expression of her countenance change to angry discontent. Her mirth ceased however, evincing itself so openly, and on the first opportunity she withdrew with her partner from the observation of her father. The mother repeated D'Elsac's sigh, and then left him, to show herself to the dancers. Scarcely had she gone, before her brother, now at liberty to leave, set off to the cottage to inquire after Caliste. The village street was deserted, as it had been on the day D'Elsac first arrived there; and, unnoticed by one individual, he reached his sister's cottage. The door was half opened to let in the air, for it was a warm evening; and, by the light of a lamp, he could perceive that Caliste was extended upon the bed, which I have before mentioned as one of the chief articles of furniture in the kitchen. Close beside her couch sat Victorine, still wearing the white dress put on for the fete; and at her feet was Mimi, whose head rested on her lap, and who was evidently in the sweet sleep of childhood. For a moment, or more, all was silent; and D'Elsac had leisure to remark the softly serene countenance of Victorine, whose sweetly expressive face was sometimes turned towards Mimi and then towards Caliste. It was evident that Caliste slept not; for D'Elsac heard her moan, and he could remark that, when the sound reached him, Victorine looked grieved, though she spoke not, fearing to rouse the invalid. Suddenly, however, Caliste addressed her, and though her uncle could not hear her words, yet her manner was energetic, and like one still suffering from excitement. Victorine tried to sooth her, bending over her, and arranging her pillows; during which movement Mimi awoke, and inquired of Caliste "if she felt herself better." "Yes, my little Mimi, I am better," she said, "that is, my head does not pain me as it did; yet, for all that, I am perhaps more miserable than ever. Oh! what shall I do, Victorine, what will become of me? At this moment I would gladly change place with the lowliest and most abject of God's creatures." "Dear Caliste," replied the astonished child, "how can you say so; you, who are so beautiful, why even Lisette, the Rosiere, was jealous of your beauty more than once this very day." "Ah, it is that!" exclaimed Caliste, sitting up in her bed, and clasping her hands together, "it is that very jealousy, Mimi, which I fear will ruin my soul and my body. Oh, Mimi, guard against jealousy, strive against envy as you would against a desire to murder your own mother."