"They often speak in the papers of husbands who kill their wives, but not
so often of wives killing their husbands," said Aline, with the partisan
feeling natural to the fair sex.

"It is not proper that you should talk of such horrid things," said the
old lady, in a severe tone; "behold the fruits of all the morals of the
age! It is the effect of all the disgusting stuff that is acted nowadays
upon the stage and written in novels. When one thinks of the fine
education that is given youth at the present time, it is enough to make
one tremble for the future!"

"Mon Dieu! Mademoiselle, you may be sure that I shall never kill my
husband," replied the young girl, to whom this remark seemed particularly
addressed.

A stifled groan, which Madame de Bergenheim could not suppress, attracted
the attention of the two ladies.

"What is the matter with you?" asked Mademoiselle de Corandeuil,
noticing for the first time her niece's dejected air and the frightened
expression in her eyes.

"Nothing," murmured the latter; "I think it is the heat of the room."

Aline hastily opened a window, then went and took her sister-in-law's
hands in her own.

"You have a fever," said she; "your hands burn and your forehead also; I
did not dare tell you, but your beautiful color--"