to my husband."

Madame Desvarennes's anger was over. She was observing Micheline, and
wished to find out the depth of the abyss into which her daughter had
thrown herself with blind confidence.

"And what did he say then?" she inquired.

"Nothing," answered Micheline, simply. "Tears came to his eyes, and he
kissed me. I saw that this delicacy touched his heart and I was happy.
There, mamma," she added with eyes sparkling at the remembrance of the
pleasure she had experienced, "he may spend as much as he likes; I am
amply repaid beforehand."

Madame Desvarennes shrugged her shoulders, and said:

"My dear child, you are mad enough to be locked up. What is there about
the fellow to turn every woman's brain?"

"Every woman's?" exclaimed Micheline, anxiously, looking at her mother.

"That is a manner of speaking. But, my dear, you must understand that I
cannot be satisfied with what you have just told me. A tear and a kiss!
Bah! That is not worth your dowry."

"Come, mamma, do let me be happy."

"You can be happy without committing follies. You do not need a racing-
stable."