of her first affection as she had anticipated she should be; she was
pale, spiritless, and absent; sometimes started when addressed, as if
only accustomed to the accents of authority unmingled with kindness; her
cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken and ray-less, and her smile was the
very mockery of mirth; evidently she was not happy, and the apparently
affectionate attentions lavished upon her by the comte, tended not to
diminish suspicions that he was not altogether so amiable at home, as he
took pains to appear in society. However, balls and fêtes followed the
union of the young couple very gaily for some months, and everybody said
that the Comtesse de Villeroi, rich, beautiful, and beloved, ought to be
the happiest creature in existence.

Something more than a year after the demise of the Marquess de
Montespan, Paris was thrown into considerable consternation by a report
originating with some of the petty officers of the sacred establishment,
that the church of St. Genevieve was haunted; old Albert Morel, the
sexton, protesting upon the faith of a good Catholic, that he had heard,
when occasionally in the church, alone, a strange rattling noise
proceed from the vaults beneath it. "What this could be," he remarked,
"was past comprehension, unless it were ghosts playing at skittles
with their own dead bones." Some people laughed at this idea, and some
sapiently shaking their heads, declared with ominous looks, that Morel
was no fool, but knew what he knew, whilst every one agreed that some
foundation, at least there must be, for the fearful tale. At length, in
the church of St. Genevieve, it became necessary for the interment of
some individual of rank, to open the very vault from whence seemed
chiefly or entirely to proceed the strange and alarming sounds, and this
happened to be that, in which were deposited the mortal remains of the
Marquess de Montespan; from his coffin, (a mere wooden shell,) it was
now ascertained that the rattling proceeded, and as upon inspection, a