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as she came thence. But this was not to be; for the prime minister, Hum, who, with what truth I cannot pretend to say, had the reputation of being at all times wide awake, was not asleep upon the present occasion; and hearing, with his pair of very acute ears, a little scuffling in the gallery, he opened the door of his apartment, which was close to the scene of action. He had apparently been deeply engaged in study; for he held in his hand a lighted lantern, the light of which he now directed upon the pair in the corridor. The instant he saw them, however, it dropped from his hand; and closing and fastening the door with all possible celerity, he jumped upon his bed, coiled himself into a circle less than his waist in diameter, drew the clothes over him in a heap, and lay without moving, breathing, or letting his beard grow, till the morning light had filled his apart

ment.

During the moment that a gleam from the lantern had been thrown upon them, To-To became aware that it was only the Emperor who had frightened her so much in the dark; and of course much delighted at this discovery, and her fears all banished thereby, she immediately returned with him to the imperial apartment.

"My dearest To-To," said his imperial majesty, as they entered, “I was not till now aware that you were a somnambulist."

"Indeed, your majesty," replied the lovely Empress; "it is a very grievous affliction. Two steps more, but for your fortunate arrival, would have brought my head against the angle of that doorway."

"But why," he asked, "did you never mention to me that you were so afflicted? I would have had a gold collar made to surround your ankle, and a chain and lock to secure you to the bed. I myself would have kept the key, so dearly do I tender your safety."

"I had hoped," she replied, "that my attachment to your sacred majesty would always have exercised the counteracting influence which it had hitherto done, and have overcome entirely the infirmity to which I was formerly subject. I have no fear of another attack, and I think the gold chain, therefore, will be quite unnecessary."

"As, however, you are restless to-night," said the Emperor, "I will secure you for the present with this strap. Stay, let me pass it round you. There, that will do-nay, one pull more-uh, uh-you can't move now, I think. That's just the thing-the lock is famous-so-and here goes the key. Don't be afraid; you can't roll down. And now, as I'm rather of the sleepiest, good night, dearest madam. Indeed this sleep-walking is a terrible thing, but we'll say no more about that till the morning.

He had scarcely finished speaking before he was fast asleep; but poor To-To couldn't sleep at all, for she was almost cut in two by the strap he fastened round her.

In the morning the Emperor liberated his wife, but he did not revert to the subject of sleep-walking till after he had finished his morning devotions and meal. He then sent for her; and when she came into his presence, he asked if she remembered the circumstances of the preceeding night. She confessed that she had some confused recollection of a dream, in which she had imagined that, after her beloved

lord had been a long time absent from home, whilst pining for his return, she suddenly beheld him walking towards her, at a distance in the garden; and that in the affection of her heart she had gone forth to meet him, and to welcome him. That with these purposes she was hastening down the long walk, when a black dragon flew out of the canal by which it was bordered, and coiled suddenly around her. She was mortally frightened thereat, and, with the greatest presence of mind, made a resolve on the instant to utter a loud scream; but that the black dragon put one of its terrible paws upon her mouth, and rendered it impossible to carry a device so ingenious into execution. partially awakening about that time, what was her satisfaction at discovering that the black dragon was no other than the Emperor himself.

On

His majesty then questioned her as to how long she had been subject to this affliction of somnambulism, and she replied that ever since she had first acquired the use of her feet, it had occasionally seized her; and that sometimes she had hurt herself severely by walking against the wall. This was very hard, she said; but she supposed, if fate brought it upon her, she must endeavour to support it.

Her compasionate lord endeavoured to console her with the suggestion that some remedy might possibly be found for this unfortunate habit; and he questioned her as to whether there were any manner in which she could at all account for her being thus afflicted. In answer to this, she expressed a suspicion that her mamma had been partly concerned; and she told some long story to substantiate this view; but that I consider little worthy our attention, as she made the facts a few weeks older than herself, and might therefore be supposed to know but little of the matter. She afterwards, however, put the thing in a more philosophical light, when she said, that her habits being sedentary and her feet large, the latter, she thought, had not a proper proportion of exercise during the day, and thus made up secretly at night, when they knew that she was sleeping, and unable consequently to keep a look out upon their motions.

Now here let it be mentioned that large feet in the days of Min-Te were as necessary to the ideal of female loveliness throughout the celestial dominions, as small feet have been ever since; and that Min-Te himself had chosen the delectable To-To as the wife of his bosom, chiefly on account of her felicities in that department of the beautiful. Nevertheless, when his lady declared her conviction that with premeditation those, her lovely members, walked away with her in such an inexcusable manner, he could not restrain himself from uttering a malediction against them. This malediction was expressed in three words; but the nib of my pen turns this way and that, and refuses to write the first-" their soles," were the other two.

Min-Te then informed his lady, that it had come to his knowledge that, though he doubted not she was quite unconscious of the fact, the little excursion she had taken the past night was by no means the first she had made in the same direction; and he considered that if she walked at all, that was the wrong way, and this he disapproved in To-To.

But To-To expressed great satisfaction at hearing this, as she said that actions done in sleep always went by a rule of contrary, and that her walking the wrong way in a dream, was the most lucid of all pos

sible proofs, that her ways was always correct in her | we wished him good night; but when they endeavourwaking hours. ed to arouse him, they discovered that he had choked himself by swallowing his pig-tail.

Could the Emperor do otherwise than bow to the force of such argument? He highly applauded his lady, and assured her of his perfect confidence in her walking excellence. Yet he confessed that his strong conviction of this was in itself a source of disquiet to his mind; for she had clearly demonstrated, that it would be the occasion of her always going wrong to sleep. It was his wish, if possible, that this might be avoided, and the only mode which occurred to him of escaping from the dilemma, was to prevent her from going at all. How to effect this? He wished heartily that her feet had not grown since infancy, as she then would not have taken to sleep-walking; but they had, and what was to be done? Min-Te was an inventive genius; he hit upon an admirable plan, he sent for a cook and cleaver, and had these offending members chopped six inches shorter. The cure was complete-it is confidently stated, that To-To never more walked in her sleep; and I recommend all somnambulists to try the efficiency of Min-Te's invention.

The Emperor next wished a private conference with his prime minister. Hum had not yet arisen, and the messengers had to seek him in his chamber. They found him nearly in the attitude in which he lay when

A proclamation went abroad throughout the empire that the most honoured and exemplary Empress, the lantern of beauty and steelyard of ceremony, had set the fashion of short feet; and though it was not absolutely required that all the ladies of the land should conform to this mode, it was made imperrative on all parents to wrap up the feet of their female children in such ligatures of cotton, silk, leather, or brass, as should effectually prevent the future growth of the pedal bones and ligaments, the toes being bent inwards towards the sole; "for," said the edict," as the toes of women have a natural bias to go wrong, it is proper that they should be turned the opposite way."

This order was everywhere obeyed with great alacrity; and it is supposed that no less than six millions of ladies, wishing to be at the top of the fashion, voluntarily, and with their own hands, chopped off their feet at the instep.

Min-Te and To-To thenceforth lived ever happily. The wisdom of Min-Te is much spoken of in this day, and he is accounted one of the greatest benefactors of his country; for the Chinese are of opinion that their wives have walked much more steadily since they lost the use of their feet.

PAULINE BARTENAU, THE HUGUENOT'S DAUGHTER.

AN OWER-TRUE POITEVIN TRADITION.
"Locus in Quo."

CHAPTER I.

In the west of "La belle France" is a department called "Les deux Sevres," from two rivers of the same name which ran through its territory; and the capitol of this department is the thriving little town of Niort. Since the days of Charles VIII. and the Maid of Orleans, this district has not been so much frequented by our ubiquitous countrymen as most other parts of France; and a residence on the banks of the "Sevre Niortaise"-as the southern of the two streams is named, to distinguish it from its sister river-might be confidently recommended to some of those English who may be frequently heard lamenting the difficulty of finding a spot where they may live unmolested by the sight or sound of others of the same species. It is a strange subject of complaint this; though all who have rambled on the Continent must have heard it from the lips of sundry of their wandering countrymen. Little complimentary, too, one would suppose it, when addressed to an Englishman, yet shall you hear it at Pau, at Carlsbad, at Sorrents, under the Cedars of Lebanon, or at Tadmor in the desert. Mrs. Smith confiding to Mrs. Thomson her distresses at being unable to discover a spot uninfested with English! and that with an amount of self-complacency indicating the conviction entertained by Mrs. Smith that she was hereby clearly manifesting her own superiority to all the common and unclean herd of her compatriots. To the French this sort of absurdity is especially unintelligible, except on hypo

theses far from advantageous to the English-hating Englishman in question. One of the objections to the solitary system of imprisonment is the great quantity of prison-room it requires. And a great deal of the world it takes to find sufficiently isolated lodgings for the fancies of our dear anti-gregarious countrymen. But there is still accommodation, as has been said, for one or two in the department of "Les deux Sevres."

A pleasant country, too, is this district of the ancient province of Poitou, undulating, green, well wooded, well watered, and rich enough in deep verdure and silvan beauty to remind the traveller of the prettiest parts of Nottinghamshire, rather than of the brown monotony of the greater part of France. And Niort, the capital of this pleasant country, is for a French town an active, thriving, commercial little city. In the old times, when Poitiers was the capitol of the province of Poitou, and before Niort could in any degree vie with it in size and importance, the two towns were strongly contrasted in their nature and appearance. Proud Poitiers was a true medieval city, a legitimate, though the youngest, child of the feudal system. Its cathedral, its parliament, its university, its long and intricately tortuous streets, compelled to twist round many a sharp corner by the huge town mansions of the Poitevin noblesse, and forced between long lines of dead wall by their large gardens, all contributed to impress upon it the genuine stamp of an old provincial capital of the first class. Niort, on the contrary, was a young commer

cial upstart. The absence of cathedral, parliament, and his wife were among the Huguenots confined or university, left the rule and management of the there on account of their faith; a fact which the town to the wealthy and industrious burghers, whose world would have long since forgotten, had it not thriying activity had raised it to be, in population at happened that within those cheerless walls on the least, a rival of the capital. There, streets, straight 27th of November in the above-mentioned year, that though narrow, and long rows of moderately sized lady gave birth to a daughter, who, after fifty years of a houses, uninterrupted by large breaks of silent gar-life comprising more strange vicissitudes than the dens, intimated the subordination of private to the boldest novelist would dare to relate as probable, bepublic importance. came De Maintenon, and wife of Louis XIV. Yes, reader! strange as it seems, the infant, born of those parents then imprisoned for their Calvinist creed, was she who dealt in after years the deadliest blow, almost a death-blow, to Protestantism in France, by causing, on the 22d of October, 1685, the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.

The moral contrast between the two towns was not less striking than their physical difference. Law, physic, and divinity reigned in Poitiers. It was when the noblesse de l'épee met the "noblesse de robe" within the walls of their own parliament towns, that the latter were most able to compete with and make a stand against the jealousy and overbearing preten- A prison cell is a sad scene for the bringing into sions of the more ancient and more barbarous sword-life of a new creature, innocent, as yet, of any part of nobles. So law and mother Church divided Poitiers all the sin and folly that have built and peopled pretty equally and exclusively between them. Both prisons! But Madame d'Aubigné was, at least, not these old ladies-with all reverence and veneration without such comfort as sympathy, and the companbe it said are known to be of somewhat sedentary ionship of one similarly tried, could afford her. Much habits, prone to maintain themselves and all other about the same time, and within the same dreary things "in statu quo," great worshippers of constitu- precincts, another birth took place at Niort. Jacques ted authorities and routine, and little given to move- Bartenau and his wife Louise were prisoners there ment or mutation of any sort. It is clear, therefore, for the same cause as the Sieur D'Aubigné and his that Poitiers was no desirable abiding place for new-lady. They, too, were Huguenots, and had been fangled notions or heresies in religion or politics. condemned to conversion by the convincing process Such things, alas! will arise from time to time in the of imprisonment, as expiatory victims for the good of best regulated states; and even Louis Quatorze, the monarch's soul. grand monarque as he was, could not entirely keep men from thinking.

A

Oh! but it takes a great deal to bring about the salvation of a monarch. Hear the opinion, reader, of the pious Bourdaloue on this point. The passage may be found at the end of his first Lent sermon. It is conclusive on the subject. "The ordinary effect of grace," says this eloquent Jesuit, preaching before Louis XIV., "is the salvation of common Christians. The salvation of the great is its chef-d'œuvre. king's salvation is a prodigy of grace; and that of the greatest of earth's kings a miracle thereof." It cannot be doubted that this good servant of God and the king meant his words to be highly complimentary to that master whom he feared the most, and most strove to please. But it must be confessed that the sly Jesuit's climax seems to imply a singularly doubleedged compliment. And truly, perhaps all things considered, many persons may be inclined to think the above words much about as veracious as any.

When, therefore, new opinions kept springing up with a perversity which has often been seen to reward the efforts of paternal governments-like quickset hedges, all the more stiff and thick the more often they were cut down-the commercial little town of Niort, unprotected by those influences which have been described as spreading their peaceful wings over dreamy old Poitiers, became much infested by Huguenots and Calvinists. The town, it must be owned, did not seem to flourish the less on this account. Such was the state of things in Niort towards the middle of the seventeenth century-the period to which our historiette relates. So that when the king's immoral life drove him to the necessity of making up for it by persecuting the Huguenots the mode of pleasing God which was least personally troublesome to himself-and the prison of Niort, like Well! Louise Bartenau, as has been said, became that of many other towns, was turned into an instru- a mother in the prison. Her child was also a girl; ment of conversion, the inhabitants of that city, and the same dark walls which met the first opening Catholic as well as Calvinist, disapproved of the mea-gaze of Françoise D'Aubigné, welcomed also to her

sure.

CHAPTER II.

THE HUGUENOT AND THE HUGUENOT'S WIFE.

earthly pilgrimage the other Poitevin Huguenot's daughter, Pauline Bartenau.

Misfortune, like its powerful despot cousin, Death, is a great leveller. And the two young mothers found comfort and consolation in the presence and companionship of each other. In other circumstances there would have been little in common between them. The D'Aubignés were noble-the Bartenaus plebeian. Scarcely any events less cogent than those which had thus thrown them together could have

In the year 1635 the prison of Niort, that same gloomy looking old castellated tower, which may still be seen frowning on the town from the top of the little eminence which constitutes the most command-brought them into companionship. Had the Barteing spot within the walls, contained more than one prisoner for conscience sake, victims of the king's piety.

One group, among those who were, at that time, inmates of the prison, have found a place in the partial pages of general history. The Sieur D'Aubigné

naus been more lowly placed in the social scale than they were, sympathy and kindness between the two mothers might have been less improbable; for the noblesse of France found nothing galling to their pride in treating with kindness, and even frequently with familiarity, those who were sufficiently beneath

them to be their creatures and dependants. But In the case of Jacques Bartenau, the outward man Jacques Bartenau was a rich merchant of Niort. was a very accurate exponent of the disposition and Two prides would, therefore, have had to be over-character. Spotless probity in all the dealings and come and made to bend, before any association could transactions of his life, unbending inflexibility of purhave taken place between him and the violent pose, unwearying industry, unshakeable and oversword-noble. And both these prides were of the weening self-confidence, a severity of judgment unstiffest. mitigated by any comprehension of human frailty or pity for its weakness-these were the leading virtues and vices of his strongly defined and consistent character.

Nor would their community of feeling on religious matters have helped in any material degree, as might at first sight be supposed, to draw them together. The Huguenots were a large and mixed body; and their numbers were augmented by proselytes from all ranks of society, whose motives for dissenting from the state religion were by no means all the same. The heart of the body were strict, rigid Calvinists. These were for the most part bourgeois; and such was Jacques Bartenau. Then there were ambitious, scheming nobles, who saw in this stern, resolute, and disaffected body, an instrument which might be used with advantage for their own purposes. Court disappointments, discontent, dislike of the existing order of things, reckless restlessness, and love of movement, drew to the Huguenot ranks a large and loose crowd of straggling partisans, the effect of whose championship was to weaken and not stregthen the cause they thought fit to espouse.

It did not necessarily follow, then, from the fact of both being Huguenots, that much community of sentiment should exist between the two prisoners and their wives. And in truth it is not often that men, so widely differing in all respects as did these two co-religionists, are found conducted by fate into circumstances so precisely parallel. The Sieur D'Aubigné was, it seems, a violent, hot-headed, ill-conducted man, ever scrambling out of one trouble to fall into another, unfit to be trusted to find his own way through life, and much less to guide his wife and children on theirs. Jacques Bartenau, the Niort merchant, was a very different sort of man. He was, at the period of his daughter's birth in 1635, in the very pride of middle life, being then 38 years old. He was a remarkably handsome man; though fav persons, perhaps, would have deemed his features prepossessing. The cold, though large and wellopened grey eye, expressed too much self-concentration, lighted up too rarely with sympathetic contagion at another's mirth-too rarely melted in tenderness for the woes of others, ay, or even for his own. The thin and habitually closed lips prevented the otherwise beautifully formed mouth from producing the pleasing impression which it would have else not failed to do. The well moulded and strongly pronounced chin indicated, in connexion with the other features which have been noticed, too much firmness, too small a seasoning of human weakness, for amiability. A high and well-outlined Roman nose completed the severe and stern character of the countenance. The coal black hair, which had begun to retreat from the large and lofty forehead, was already mingled with grey. His person, both physically and in its moral expression, corresponded well with the features of his face. Tall, perfectly well-formed, and even commanding as was the handsome figure of the Niortais trader, there was a rigidity about it, an unbending, self-sustained erectness, and an uncompromising determination, expressed even in his measured gait, which was more calculated to inspire fear than love in those connected with him by family ties.

Such is he, who now at the moment of our reader's introduction to him, is holding in his arms, and gazing at the features of his first-born child-the prison-born infant, whose subsequent fortunes, still remembered in the traditional lore of her native town, it is the business of these pages to relate.

"I had hoped," said the father, turning to another man about his own age, whose dress indicated him to be a Huguenot priest, and who was standing near him, "I had hoped to have been the father of a boy, who in the troublous times that but too evidently are coming upon us, might have helped the good cause with heart and with hand. There will be days of wailing and nights of terror for the women of our faith, or I have no skill in reading the portents of the

times."

"Bless the Lord! my friend, for the child which he has given you," returned the divine; "bless the Lord! and, by his blessing, our women, ay, and our children, shall so fight the good fight, as to purify the rottenness of this darkened land, and change the louring blackness of its future to a bright light. Let us welcome the babe with prayer."

The father and the preacher knelt together, and the prayer pronounced by the latter was long, and strongly marked by the peculiar doctrines of the more rigid Calvinists. The petition was listened to by Jacques Bartenau without the smallest symptom of impatience; and when it was concluded, and not till then, he turned to go and visit the mother of his child, a mother now for the first time.

And this mother, this wife of the stern Huguenot, for whose faith's-sake her first-born child first drew the breath of life within a prison wall, was she a helpmate meet for the zealous partizan, the severe man, to whose fate she had indissolubly linked her own? Louise Bartenau, the mother of the Huguenot's daughter-let us now make acquaintance with her.

Louise Bartenau was not a Frenchwoman by birth, nor had the name she bore in the land of her fathers been the French one, Louise. She, whom fate had destined for the life-partner of the Poitevin Huguenot, grew and ripened into loveliness beneath the beautyfostering sun of Cadiz. Whether that genial city had also been her birthplace, no one knew; for Zara Diaz had been a foundling. The first of these names had been found attached to the cloth which wrapped the infant; and the second was that of the good Cadiz trader, who adopted her as his foster-child, and beneath whose roof Bartenau, travelling in Spain for the purposes of his commerce, had found her. There could be little doubt that the dark-eyed child, who seemed almost daily to expand into precocious beauty, was of Moorish or perhaps of Gipsey parentage. The posterity of the Visigoth has become matured into very perfect beauty beneath the vivifying and munificent skies of Spain; and all Europe has heard

again and again, in prose and in verse, of the girls of time of their marriage she thought so. There was Cadiz. But the dark richness of the crimson blood something so new to her, so majestic and almost that glowed through the clear brown skin of the awe-inspiring in the manifestation of combined moral, little Zara-the exhaustless treasures of that long, intellectual, and physical strength, joined, too, to conlong eye which anon dazzled with its lightning flash, siderable personal attraction, as they were in the perand anon welled forth from its still depths,fringed round son of the northern stranger. And it was flattering with long black silken lashes, such liquid gushes of to little Zara's woman's part to see all this strength molten fire; as flooded with tenderness the swelling prostrate at her tiny feet. brow of whoso those eyes lighted on-and above all, So the strangely-matched pair became man and the exquisite fineness of the round limbs, the wonder-wife; and Zara henceforward assumed the French ful degree of elasticity united with extreme slender-name" Louise," in conformity to her husband's will, ness of wrist and ankle, hand and foot-the beautiful though somewhat in opposition to her own wishes. snake-like pliability of the exquisitely small waist, all And the moment soon arrived when she must leave unconscious of band or stay-all this unmistakeably the bright skies of Spain, gay Cadiz, her beloved fosdeclared the blood of a race which had dwelt inter-parents, and all her girlhood's friends, to follow to lands warmed by a yet hotter sun than that of Spain. a strange northern laud the stern cold man, who was And then "quant au moral?" Well, the fact is, now to be to her in the place of all things, home, that Jacques Bartenau, the stern religionist, the parents, friends. At the best it was a cruel wrench, a thoughtful, severe, moral man, did not inquire or think tremendous trial. And Zara, called so for the last so much on this part of the matter as might perhaps time by the weeping friends who clung around her— have been expected. Perhaps he was fairly subdued, she, all unused to trial of any kind, abandoned herself stunned, and incapacitated for anything like cool or to a convulsive burst of grief, which almost alarmed, rational judgment, by the excessive beauty of his and quite displeased her calm and self-possessed husmistress. Wiser men than he have been plunged band. It was an ill-omened commencement. into such a helpless condition. Perhaps there were certain obliquities in his own moral idiosyncrasy, which tended to make him look on woman rather as a toy for the relaxation of man during his hours of recreation, than as the heaven-sent partner and equal friend of all his hours alike, of his graver as of his lighter moments, of his griefs as of his joys. Proud, cold, stern, excessively manly-minded men, rarely think worthily of women. Manly-minded, reader, you will be so good as to observe. Not manly-hearted. C'est tout autre chose. The error we speak of has its seat in the intellect, not in the heart.

Well! the reader has now some knowledge of the young mother who has just given birth to her first child in the prison of Niort. And the particulars of her story, of which he is in full possession, will enable him easily to fill up in his imagination, alas! but too accurately, the short outline of the remainder of her history, which we shalt comprise in a few words. We should not have devoted so much space, as we have done to the purpose of making the reader acquainted with her-for alack! he is to lose her immediately, and her part in this history is well nigh played out already-were it not that it is necessary to our purpose that he should know what manner of woman, in mind and person, was the mother of the Huguenot's daughter."

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Perhaps, again, Jacques Bartenau was attracted by the very absence in his wife of almost all those moral qualities which he had, and the presence of those which he had not. There is nothing unprecedented, Two years had elapsed between Louise Bartenau's or indeed extraordinary, in such a fact. "Simile marriage and this her first confinement. And they simili gaudet," says the Latin proverb. But experi-ha◆done much in their course to convince both the ence shows us that in the intercourse of the world the reverse is quite as often the case.

Huguenot and his wife that they had made an irretrievable mistake in uniting their fortunes indissolubly. Be this as it may, certain it is that the austere It was not mere caprice that induced Bartenau to Huguenot differed not more in the physical organiza- desire the change of his wife's name. He would fain tion of his stalwart and stiff person from that of his have buried in oblivion, and that, too, from the first wife, than he did in moral constitution and develop-moment of his marriage, all that could serve to recall ment. Not that the most subtle moral alchemist, if his Spanish wife's race, creed, and country. Jacques every thought and impulse of the young Spanish girl Bartenau stood very high in the esteem and respect had been put into his crucible, could have detected there aught that could merit a severe judgment. The absence of much that it might have been better to have found there, may be admitted, but scarcely the presence of aught very darkly evil. Indeed, in comparing the entire moral being of Jacques Bartenau with that of his young wife, it might well be deemed that her "state was the more gracious" of the two, much as such a judgment would have appeared monstrous and absurd to the Poitevin merchant himself.

of the Huguenot party in his own town and province. He was a leading man among them. And he had incurred their very general disapprobation, and even the expressed censure of his clergy, by his marriage. The poor Spanish girl, in the innocence of her heart, and the ignorance of her head, had willingly professed her adoption of her husband's creed. But her new co-religionists rightly judged her a proselyte of little value. Her husband could not be said to have been guilty of active unkindness towards her. But he was constantly surrounded by those in whose eyes she was an abomination. And he suffered her to become conscious that his marriage was a matter of conscientious self-respect to him.

But with all this it must be supposed that Jacques Bartenau loved his wife; of course he did, and why did he marry her? There was no other inducement to the match. And he did love her as such a man could love such a woman. Gay, laughter-loving, Sadly, sadly changed was poor Louise Bartenau ardent, volatile, enthusiastic, passionate, impressiona- from the bright creature she had been two short years ble to the highest degree-did she was it possible before. Crushed was the gay spirit; sunken and that she could love him? Yes! At least, at thewan the clear dark cheek; hollow and haggard the

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