The Du Roys had been in Paris two days and the journalist had resumed work; he had given up his own especial province to assume that of Forestier, and to devote himself entirely to politics. On this particular evening he turned his steps toward home with a light heart. As he passed a florist’s on Rue Notre Dame de Lorette he bought a bouquet of half-open roses for Madeleine. Having forgotten his key, on arriving at his door, he rang and the servant answered his summons.

Georges asked: “Is Madame at home?” “Yes, sir.”

In the dining-room he paused in astonishment to see covers laid for three: the door of the salon being ajar, he saw Madeleine arranging in a vase on the mantelpiece a bunch of roses similar to his.

He entered the room and asked: “Have you invited anyone to dinner?”

She replied without turning her head and continuing the arrangement of her flowers: “Yes and no: it is my old friend, Count de Vaudrec, who is in the habit of dining here every Monday and who will come now as he always has,”

Georges murmured: “Very well.”

He stopped behind her, the bouquet in his hand, the desire strong within him to conceal it — to throw it away. However, he said:

“Here, I have brought you some roses!”

She turned to him with a smile and said: “Ah, how thoughtful of you!” and she kissed him with such evident affection that he felt consoled.

She took the flowers, inhaled their perfume, and put them in an empty vase. Then she said as she noted the effect: “Now I am satisfied; my mantelpiece looks pretty,” adding with an air of conviction:

“Vaudrec is charming; you will become intimate with him at once,”

A ring announced the Count. He entered as if he were at home. After gallantly kissing Mme. Du Roy’s hand, he turned to her husband and cordially offered his hand, saying: “How are you, my dear Du Roy?”

He had no longer that haughty air, but was very affable. One would have thought in the course of five minutes, that the two men had known one another for ten years. Madeleine, whose face was radiant, said: “I will leave you together. I have work to superintend in the kitchen.” The dinner was excellent and the Count remained very late. When he was gone, Madeleine said to her husband: “Is he not nice? He improves, too, on acquaintance. He is a good, true, faithful friend. Ah, without him —”

She did not complete her sentence and Georges replied: “Yes, he is very pleasant, I think we shall understand each other well.”

“You do not know,” she said, “that we have work to do to-night before retiring. I did not have time to tell you before dinner, for Vaudrec came. Laroche-Mathieu brought me important news of Morocco. We must make a fine article of that. Let us set to work at once. Come, take the lamp.”

He carried the lamp and they entered the study. Madeleine leaned, against the mantelpiece, and having lighted a cigarette, told him the news and gave him her plan of the article. He listened attentively, making notes as she spoke, and when she had finished he raised objections, took up the question and, in his turn, developed another plan. His wife ceased smoking, for her interest was aroused in following Georges’s line of thought. From time to time she murmured: “Yes, yes; very good — excellent — very forcible —” And when he had finished speaking, she said: “Now let us write.”

It was always difficult for him to make a beginning and she would lean over his shoulder and whisper the phrases in his ear, then he would add a few lines; when their article was completed, Georges re- read it. Both he and Madeleine pronounced it admirable and kissed one another with passionate admiration.

The article appeared with the signature of “G. du Roy de Cantel,” and made a great sensation. M. Walter congratulated the author, who soon became celebrated in political circles. His wife, too, surprised him by the ingenuousness of her mind, the cleverness of her wit, and the number of her acquaintances. At almost any time upon returning home he found in his salon a senator, a deputy, a magistrate, or a general, who treated Madeleine with grave familiarity.

Deputy Laroche-Mathieu, who dined at Rue Fontaine every Tuesday, was one of the largest stockho............