Still he smiled, always in love with that young woman of twenty-four years, delicate, slender, and full of the fears and artlessness of a child.  Accustomed to the quiet solitude of the house of her guardian, she, when at Paris, in her husband’s study, arranging his books, his papers, his legislative plans and reports, sought to surround her dear Sulpice with the comforting felicity of bourgeois happiness that was enjoyed calmly, like a cordial sipped at the fireside.

Then suddenly one day, the news of a startling political change broke in on this household.

Sulpice reached home one evening at one and the same time nervous, anxious, and happy.

His name was on almost every lip, in connection with a ministerial combination.  His last speech on domestic policy had more than ever brought him into prominence and he was considered to have boldly contributed to the development of a fearful crisis.

A minister! he might, before the morning, be a minister!  His policy was triumphant.

The advocate Collard—­of Nantes,—­who was pointed out as the future head of the Cabinet, was one of his intimate friends.  It was suggested—­positively—­that Sulpice should be intrusted with one of the most important portfolios, that of the Interior or of Foreign Affairs, the lesser portfolios being considered those of Public Instruction and of Agriculture and Commerce, the former of which concerns itself with the spiritual welfare of the people, and the latter with their food supply.

Sulpice told all this to Adrienne while eating his dinner mechanically and without appetite.

There was to be a meeting of his coterie at eight o’clock.  It was already seven.  He hurried.

Adrienne saw that he was very pale.  She experienced a strange sensation, evidently a joyful one although mingled with anxiety.  Politics drew him away from his wife so frequently, and for so long a time, that she was already compelled to live in such solitude that the secluded creature wondered if in future she would not be condemned to still greater isolation.  But all anxiety disappeared under the influence of Sulpice’s manifest joy.  He was feverishly impatient.  It seemed to him that never had he known so decisive a moment in his life.

The sound of the bell, suddenly ringing out its clear note in the silence, caused him to start.

The dining-room door was opened by a servant, who handed a letter to Vaudrey, bearing on one corner of the envelope the word:  Urgent.

Sulpice recognized the writing.

It was from Collard of Nantes.

Adrienne saw her husband’s cheek flush as he read this letter, which Sulpice promptly handed her, while his eyes sparkled with delight.

“It is done!  Read!”

Adrienne turned pale.

Collard notified his “colleague” that the ministerial combination of which he was the head had succeeded.  The President awaited at the Elysee the arrival of the new ministers.  He tendered Vaudrey the portfolio of the Interior.