be 'friend,' while waiting for better. This word is very pleasant to
hear when spoken in these siren's accents, and when at the same time the
eyes say 'lover!'"

"Will you always love me thus?" Octave asked, whose face beamed with
virtuous pledges.

"Always!" sighed Clemence, without lowering eyes under the burning
glance which met hers.

"You will be the soul of my soul; the angel of my heaven?"

"Your sister," she said, with a sweet smile, as she caressed her lover's
cheek with her hand.

He felt the blood mount to his face at this caress, and turned his eyes
away with a dreamy air.

"I probably am one of the greatest fools that has ever existed since the
days of Joseph and Hippolytus," thought he.

He remained silent and apparently indifferent for several moments.

"Of what are you thinking?" asked Madame de Bergenheim, surprised by
Octave's silence and rather listless air.

He gave a start of surprise at this question.

"May I die if I tell her!" he thought; "she must think me ridiculous
enough as it is."