desire luxury. In spite of the terrible lesson of the duel, some
imprudent women whispered to each other that Madame Jules must
sometimes be pressed for money. They often found her more elegantly
dressed in her own home than when she went into society. She loved to
adorn herself to please her husband, wishing to show him that to her
he was more than any social life. A true love, a pure love, above all,
a happy love! Jules, always a lover, and more in love as time went by,
was happy in all things beside his wife, even in her caprices; in
fact, he would have been uneasy if she had none, thinking it a symptom
of some illness.

Auguste de Maulincour had the personal misfortune of running against
this passion, and falling in love with the wife beyond recovery.
Nevertheless, though he carried in his heart so intense a love, he was
not ridiculous; he complied with all the demands of society, and of
military manners and customs. And yet his face wore constantly, even
though he might be drinking a glass of champagne, that dreamy look,
that air of silently despising life, that nebulous expression which
belongs, though for other reasons, to _blases_ men,--men dissatisfied
with hollow lives. To love without hope, to be disgusted with life,
constitute, in these days, a social position. The enterprise of
winning the heart of a sovereign might give, perhaps, more hope than a
love rashly conceived for a happy woman. Therefore Maulincour had
sufficient reason to be grave and gloomy. A queen has the vanity of
her power; the height of her elevation protects her. But a pious
_bourgeoise_ is like a hedgehog, or an oyster, in its rough wrappings.

At this moment the young officer was beside his unconscious mistress,
who certainly was unaware that she was doubly faithless. Madame Jules
was seated, in a naive attitude, like the least artful woman in