your other duties," began the baron, as he seated himself on the edge of
the sofa by the side of his sobbing wife, who was, however, much too
anxious about her baby to be able to listen patiently to the marital
lecture to which the baron was about to treat her.

"But Arnaud! Arnaud! where is the baby? Oh, do tell me; it is cruel to
keep me in this suspense," sobbed the baroness.

Now, to be cruel to his wife was the very last thing the baron intended;
it was only out of the extremity of his jealous love for her that he had
sent the baby away. Thoughtless and selfish he might have been, but
surely no one could say he had been guilty of cruelty to this wife, whom
he loved so madly that even her love for her child had raised the demon
of jealousy within his breast. The word "cruel" stung him to the quick;
it was a new phase of his conduct, one that had never struck him before,
and as he glanced at the poor little baroness, who had half risen on the
sofa, and was looking at him with an agonised look on her pretty face,
he was seized with remorse, and felt it impossible to go on with the
_rôle_ he had attempted to play of the wise father and husband, who had
only acted for the good of his wife and child. Already he was beginning
to repent of his rash act, and if it had been possible to go after the
yacht the chances are the baron would have started at once, and brought
back the baby for the pleasure of seeing its mother smile again. As it
was impossible, the next best thing was to make the best of it, and if
Mathilde could not be comforted in any other way, why he must promise to
let her have it back again. He decided all this as he petted the
baroness, and tried to comfort her by whispering fond nothings into her
ear; but he soon found all his caresses were useless, unless he yielded
to her entreaties and told her where the baby was, and as all he knew
about it was that it was on board Léon's yacht, on which it was being