of general culture, a man of the world," said M. de Mauves, turning to
Longmore but looking hard at the seal of his watchguard. "You can talk
about everything, and I'm sure you like Alfred de Musset as well as
Monsieur Wordsworth. Talk to her about everything you can, Alfred de
Musset included. Bah! I forgot you're going. Come back then as soon as
possible and report on your travels. If my wife too would make a little
voyage it would do her great good. It would enlarge her horizon"--and M.
de Mauves made a series of short nervous jerks with his stick in the
air--"it would wake up her imagination. She's too much of one piece, you
know--it would show her how much one may bend without breaking." He
paused a moment and gave two or three vigorous puffs. Then turning to
his companion again with eyebrows expressively raised: "I hope you
admire my candour. I beg you to believe I wouldn't say such things to
one of US!"

Evening was at hand and the lingering light seemed to charge the air
with faintly golden motes. Longmore stood gazing at these luminous
particles; he could almost have fancied them a swarm of humming insects,
the chorus of a refrain: "She has a great deal of esprit--she has a
great deal of esprit." "Yes,--she has a great deal," he said
mechanically, turning to the Count. M. de Mauves glanced at him sharply,
as if to ask what the deuce he was talking about. "She has a great deal
of intelligence," said Longmore quietly, "a great deal of beauty, a
great many virtues."

M. de Mauves busied himself for a moment in lighting another cigar, and
when he had finished, with a return of his confidential smile, "I
suspect you of thinking that I don't do my wife justice." he made
answer. "Take care--take care, young man; that's a dangerous assumption.
In general a man always does his wife justice. More than justice," the