"Monsieur Nathan is not Moliere as yet, but--" said Madame d'Espard,
looking at the countess.

"He makes vaudevilles," said Madame Charles de Vandenesse.

"And unmakes ministries," added Madame de Manerville.

The countess was silent; she wanted to answer with a sharp repartee;
her heart was bounding with anger, but she could find nothing better
to say than,--

"He will make them, perhaps."

All the women looked at each other with mysterious significance. When
Marie de Vandenesse departed Moina de Saint-Heren exclaimed:--

"She adores him."

"And she makes no secret of it," said Madame d'Espard.



CHAPTER VII

SUICIDE

In the month of May Vandenesse took his wife, as usual, to their
country-seat, where she was consoled by the passionate letters she
received from Raoul, to whom she wrote every day.