The abbe said grace as usual when there was no company, for the children did not come down to dinner when guests were present.  Then they began dinner.  The countess, suffering from emotion, which she had not calculated upon, remained with her eyes cast down, while the count scrutinized now the three boys and now the three girls with an uncertain, unhappy expression, which travelled from one to the other.  Suddenly pushing his wineglass from him, it broke, and the wine was spilt on the tablecloth, and at the slight noise caused by this little accident the countess started up from her chair; and for the first time they looked at each other.  Then, in spite of themselves, in spite of the irritation of their nerves caused by every glance, they continued to exchange looks, rapid as pistol shots.

The abbe, who felt that there was some cause for embarrassment which he could not divine, attempted to begin a conversation and tried various subjects, but his useless efforts gave rise to no ideas and did not bring out a word.  The countess, with feminine tact and obeying her instincts of a woman of the world, attempted to answer him two or three times, but in vain.  She could not find words, in the perplexity of her mind, and her own voice almost frightened her in the silence of the large room, where nothing was heard except the slight sound of plates and knives and forks.

Suddenly her husband said to her, bending forward:  “Here, amid your children, will you swear to me that what you told me just now is true?”

The hatred which was fermenting in her veins suddenly roused her, and replying to that question with the same firmness with which she had replied to his looks, she raised both her hands, the right pointing toward the boys and the left toward the girls, and said in a firm, resolute voice and without any hesitation:  “On the head of my children, I swear that I have told you the truth.”

He got up and throwing his table napkin on the table with a movement of exasperation, he turned round and flung his chair against the wall, and then went out without another word, while she, uttering a deep sigh, as if after a first victory, went on in a calm voice:  “You must not pay any attention to what your father has just said, my darlings; he was very much upset a short time ago, but he will be all right again in a few days.”

Then she talked with the abbe and Miss Smith and had tender, pretty words for all her children, those sweet, tender mother’s ways which unfold little hearts.

When dinner was over she went into the drawing-room, all her children following her.  She made the elder ones chatter, and when their bedtime came she kissed them for a long time and then went alone into her room.

She waited, for she had no doubt that the count would come, and she made up her mind then, as her children were not with her, to protect herself as a woman of the world as she would protect her life, and in the pocket of her dress she put the little loaded revolver which she had bought a few days previously.  The hours went by, the hours struck, and every sound was hushed in the house.  Only the cabs, continued to rumble through the streets, but their noise was only heard vaguely through the shuttered and curtained windows.