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girl can affect； and which they constantly play off； as spoilt
children abuse the power they owe to their mother's affection。
Thus all familiarity between the girl and the old Count was soon
put a stop to。 She understood the painter's melancholy； and the
thoughts hidden in the furrows on his brow； from the abrupt tone
of the few words he spoke when the old man unceremoniously kissed
Adelaide's hands or throat。
Mademoiselle Leseigneur； on her part； soon expected her lover to
give a short account of all his actions； she was so unhappy； so
restless when Hippolyte did not come； she scolded him so
effectually for his absence； that the painter had to give up
seeing his other friends； and now went nowhere。 Adelaide allowed
the natural jealousy of women to be perceived when she heard that
sometimes at eleven o'clock； on quitting the house； the painter
still had visits to pay； and was to be seen in the most brilliant
drawing…rooms of Paris。 This mode of life； she assured him； was
bad for his health； then； with the intense conviction to which
the accent； the emphasis and the look of one we love lend so much
weight； she asserted that a man who was obliged to expend his
time and the charms of his wit on several women at once could not
be the object of any very warm affection。 Thus the painter was
led； as much by the tyranny of his passion as by the exactions of
a girl in love； to live exclusively in the little apartment where
everything attracted him。
And never was there a purer or more ardent love。 On both sides
the same trustfulness； the same delicacy； gave their passion
increase without the aid of those sacrifices by which many
persons try to prove their affection。 Between these two there was
such a constant interchange of sweet emotion that they knew not
which gave or received the most。
A spontaneous affinity made the union of their souls a close one。
The progress of this true feeling was so rapid that two months
after the accident to which the painter owed the happiness of
knowing Adelaide； their lives were one life。 From early morning
the young girl； hearing footsteps overhead； could say to herself；
〃He is there。〃 When Hippolyte went home to his mother at the
dinner hour he never failed to look in on his neighbors； and in
the evening he flew there at the accustomed hour with a lover's
punctuality。 Thus the most tyrannical woman or the most ambitious
in the matter of love could not have found the smallest fault
with the young painter。 And Adelaide tasted of unmixed and
unbounded happiness as she saw the fullest realization of the
ideal of which； at her age； it is so natural to dream。
The old gentleman now came more rarely； Hippolyte； who had been
jealous； had taken his place at the green table； and shared his
constant ill…luck at cards。 And sometimes； in the midst of his
happiness； as he considered Madame de Rouville's disastrous
positionfor he had had more than one proof of her extreme
povertyan importunate thought would haunt him。 Several times he
had said to himself as he went home； 〃Strange！ twenty francs
every evening？〃 and he dared not confess to himself his odious
suspicions。
He spent two months over the portrait； and when it was finished；
varnished； and framed； he looked upon it as one of his best
works。 Madame la Baronne de Rouville had never spoken of it
again。 Was this from indifference or pride？ The painter would not
allow himself to account for this silence。 He joyfully plotted
with Adelaide to hang the picture in its place when Madame de
Rouville should be out。 So one day； during the walk her mother
usually took in the Tuileries； Adelaide for the first time went
up to Hippolyte's studio； on the pretext of seeing the portrait
in the good light in which it had been painted。 She stood
speechless and motionless； but in ecstatic contemplation； in
which all a woman's feelings were merged。 For are they not all
comprehended in boundless admiration for the man she loves？ When
the painter； uneasy at her silence； leaned forward to look at
her； she held out her hand； unable to speak a word； but two tears
fell from her eyes。 Hippolyte took her hand and covered it with
kisses； for a minute they looked at each other in silence； both
longing to confess their love； and not daring。 The painter kept
her hand in his； and the same glow； the same throb； told them
that their hearts were both beating wildly。 The young girl； too
greatly agitated； gently drew away from Hippolyte； and said； with
a look of the utmost simplicity：
〃You will make my mother very happy。〃
〃What； only your mother？〃 he asked。
〃Oh； I am too happy。〃
The painter bent his head and remained silent； frightened at the
vehemence of the feelings which her tones stirred in his heart。
Then； both understanding the perils of the situation； they went
downstairs and hung up the picture in its place。 Hippolyte dined
for the first time with the Baroness； who； greatly overcome； and
drowned in tears； must needs embrace him。
In the evening the old emigre； the Baron de Rouville's old
comrade； paid the ladies a visit to announce that he had just
been promoted to the rank of vice…admiral。 His voyages by land
over Germany and Russia had been counted as naval campaigns。 On
seeing the portrait he cordially shook the painter's hand； and
exclaimed； 〃By Gad！ though my old hulk does not deserve to be
perpetuated； I would gladly give five hundred pistoles to see
myself as like as that is to my dear old Rouville。〃
At this hint the Baroness looked at her young friend and smiled；
while her face lighted up with an expression of sudden gratitude。
Hippolyte suspected that the old admiral wished to offer him the
price of both portraits while paying for his own。 His pride as an
artist； no less than his jealousy perhaps； took offence at the
thought； and he replied：
〃Monsieur； if I were a portrait…painter I should not have done
this one。〃
The admiral bit his lip； and sat down to cards。
The painter remained near Adelaide； who proposed a dozen hands of
piquet； to which he agreed。 As he played he observed in Madame de
Rouville an excitement over her game which surprised him。 Never
before had the old Baroness manifested so ardent a desire to win；
or so keen a joy in fingering the old gentleman's gold pieces。
During the evening evil suspicions troubled Hippolyte's
happiness； and filled him with distrust。 Could it be that Madame
de Rouville lived by gambling？ Was she playing at this moment to
pay off some debt； or under the pressure of necessity？ Perhaps
she had not paid her rent。 The old man seemed shrewd enough not
to allow his money to be taken with impunity。 What interest
attracted him to this poverty…stricken house； he who was rich？
Why； when he had formerly been so familiar with Adelaide； had he
given up the rights he had acquired； and which were perhaps his
due？
These involuntary reflections prompted him to watch the old man
and the Baroness； whose meaning looks and certain sidelong
glances cast at Adelaide displeased him。 〃Am I being duped？〃 was
Hippolyte's last ideahorrible； scathing； for he believed it
just enough to be tortured by it。 He determined to stay after the
departure of the two old men； to confirm or dissipate his
suspicions。 He drew out his purse to pay Adelaide； but carried
away by his poignant thoughts； he laid it on the table； falling
into a reverie of brief duration； then； ashamed of his silence；
he rose； answered some commonplace question from Madame de
Rouville； and went close up to her to examine the withered
features while he was talking to her。
He went away； racked by a thousand doubts。 He had gone down but a
few steps when he turned back to fetch the forgotten purse。
〃I left my purse here！〃 he said to the young girl。
〃No；〃 she said； reddening。
〃I thought it was there；〃 and he pointed to the card…table。 Not
finding it； in his shame for Adelaide and the Baroness； he looked
at them with a blank amazement that made them laugh； turned pale；
felt his waistcoat； and said； 〃I must have made a mistake。 I have
it somewhere no doubt。〃
In one end of the purse there were fifteen louis d'or； and in the
other some small change。 The theft was so flagrant； and denied
with such effrontery； that Hippolyte no longer felt a doubt as to
his neighbors' morals。 He stood still on the stairs； and got down
with some difficulty； his knees shook； he felt dizzy； he was in a
cold sweat； he shivered； and found himself unable to walk；
struggling； as he was； with the agonizing shock caused by the
destruction of all his hopes。 And at this moment he found lurking
in his memory a number of observations； trifling in themselves；
but which corroborated his frightful suspicions； and which； by
proving the certainty of this last incident； opened his eyes as
to the character and life of these two women。
Had they really wa