seeing the portrait he cordially shook the painter's hand, and
exclaimed, "By Gad! though my old hulk does not deserve to be
perpetuated, I would gladly give five hundred pistoles to see
myself as like as that is to my dear old Rouville."

At this hint the Baroness looked at her young friend and smiled,
while her face lighted up with an expression of sudden gratitude.
Hippolyte suspected that the old admiral wished to offer him the
price of both portraits while paying for his own. His pride as an
artist, no less than his jealousy perhaps, took offence at the
thought, and he replied:

"Monsieur, if I were a portrait-painter I should not have done
this one."

The admiral bit his lip, and sat down to cards.

The painter remained near Adelaide, who proposed a dozen hands of
piquet, to which he agreed. As he played he observed in Madame de
Rouville an excitement over her game which surprised him. Never
before had the old Baroness manifested so ardent a desire to win,
or so keen a joy in fingering the old gentleman's gold pieces.
During the evening evil suspicions troubled Hippolyte's
happiness, and filled him with distrust. Could it be that Madame
de Rouville lived by gambling? Was she playing at this moment to
pay off some debt, or under the pressure of necessity? Perhaps
she had not paid her rent. The old man seemed shrewd enough not
to allow his money to be taken with impunity. What interest
attracted him to this poverty-stricken house, he who was rich?
Why, when he had formerly been so familiar with Adelaide, had he