“Well, I hope that, at least, you have had a pleasant walk?”

Monsieur d’Apreval replied: 

“A delightful walk, I assure you; perfectly delightful.”

THE GUILTY SECRET

BY PAUL DE KOCK

Nathalie De Hauteville was twenty-two years old, and had been a widow for three years.  She was one of the prettiest women in Paris; her large dark eyes shone with remarkable brilliancy, and she united the sparkling vivacity of an Italian and the depth of feeling of a Spaniard to the grace which always distinguishes a Parisian born and bred.  Considering herself too young to be entirely alone, she had long ago invited M. d’Ablaincourt, an old uncle of hers, to come and live with her.

M. d’Ablaincourt was an old bachelor; he had never loved anything in this world but himself.  He was an egotist, too lazy to do any one an ill turn, but at the same time too selfish to do any one a kindness, unless it would tend directly to his own advantage.  And yet, with an air of complaisance, as if he desired nothing so much as the comfort of those around him, he consented to his niece’s proposal, in the hope that she would do many little kind offices for him, which would add materially to his comfort.

M. d’Ablaincourt accompanied his niece when she resumed her place in society; but sometimes, when he felt inclined to stay at home, he would say to her:  “My dear Nathalie, I am afraid you will not be much amused this evening.  They will only play cards; besides, I don’t think any of your friends will be there.  Of course, I am ready to take you, if you wish to go.”

And Nathalie, who had great confidence in all her uncle said, would stay at home.

In the same manner, M. d’Ablaincourt, who was a great gourmand, said to his niece:  “My dear, you know that I am not at all fond of eating, and am satisfied with the simplest fare; but I must tell you that your cook puts too much salt in everything!  It is very unwholesome.”

So they changed the cook.

Again, the garden was out of order; the trees before the old gentleman’s window must be cut down, because their shade would doubtless cause a dampness in the house prejudicial to Nathalie’s health; or the surrey was to be changed for a landau.

Nathalie was a coquette.  Accustomed to charm, she listened with smiles to the numerous protestations of admiration which she received.  She sent all who aspired to her hand to her uncle, saying:  “Before I give you any hope, I must know my uncle’s opinion.”

It is likely that Nathalie would have answered differently if she had ever felt a real preference for any one; but heretofore she seemed to have preferred her liberty.

The old uncle, for his part, being now master in his niece’s house, was very anxious for her to remain as she was.  A nephew might be somewhat less submissive than Nathalie.  Therefore, he never failed to discover some great fault in each of those who sought an alliance with the pretty widow.