women's clothes.

"I've heard rumours of a serenade last night," said the professor's
wife.

Albert grew pale, but Helena took up the gauntlet.

"It was well meant, but they really might have been sober. This
excessive drinking among students is terrible."

"What did they sing?" asked the professor's wife.

"Oh! the usual songs: 'My life a sea,' and so on," replied Helena.

Albert stared at her in amazement, but he couldn't help admiring her.

The day went with gossip and discussions. Albert felt tired. Been
joyed spending a few hours, after the daily toil was over, in
pleasant conversation with women, but this was really too much. And
moreover, he had to agree to everything they said, for whenever he
attempted to express a contradictory opinion, they were down on him in
a minute.

Night fell; it was bedtime. Husband and wife wished one another good
night and retired to their separate rooms.

Again he was attacked by doubt and restlessness. He fancied that he
had seen a tender look on Helena's face, and he wasn't quite sure
whether she hadn't squeezed his hand. He lit a cigar and unfolded his
paper. As soon as he began to read of every-day matters, he seemed to