A LOVE EPISODE



CHAPTER I.

The night-lamp with a bluish shade was burning on the chimney-piece,
behind a book, whose shadows plunged more than half the chamber in
darkness. There was a quiet gleam of light cutting across the round
table and the couch, streaming over the heavy folds of the velvet
curtains, and imparting an azure hue to the mirror of the rosewood
wardrobe placed between the two windows. The quiet simplicity of the
room, the blue tints on the hangings, furniture, and carpet, served at
this hour of night to invest everything with the delightful vagueness
of cloudland. Facing the windows, and within sweep of the shadow,
loomed the velvet-curtained bed, a black mass, relieved only by the
white of the sheets. With hands crossed on her bosom, and breathing
lightly, lay Helene, asleep--mother and widow alike personified by the
quiet unrestraint of her attitude.

In the midst of the silence one o'clock chimed from the timepiece. The
noises of the neighborhood had died away; the dull, distant roar of
the city was the only sign of life that disturbed those Trocadero
heights. Helene's breathing, so light and gentle, did not ruffle the
chaste repose of her bosom. She was in a beauteous sleep, peaceful yet