Alas!  I had made a mistake; perhaps an irreparable one.

In that supreme moment it was but too true that I adored her seductive charms.  Let me cut it short.  When I held her thus it seemed to me that all the blood in my body rushed back to my heart—­a deadly thrill ran through every limb—­from shame and indignation, no doubt; my vision became obscure; it seemed as if my soul was leaving my body, and I fell forward fainting, and dragged her down to the bottom of the water in a mortal clutch.

I heard a loud cry.  I felt her arms interlace my neck, her clenched fingers sink deep into my flesh, and all was over.  I had lost consciousness.

When I came to myself I was lying on the grass.  Julie was chafing my hands, and the Marchioness, in her bathing-dress, which was streaming with water, was holding a vinaigrette to my nose.  She looked at me severely, although in her glance there was a shade of pleased satisfaction, the import of which escaped me.

“Baby! you great baby!” said she.

Now that you know all the facts, my pious friend, bestow on me the favor of your counsel, and thank heaven that you live remote from scenes like these.

          With heart and soul,
               Your sincere friend,
                    Robert de K-----Dec------.

CHAPTER III

Madame de K.

It is possible that you know Madame de K.; if this be so, I congratulate you, for she is a very remarkable person.  Her face is pretty, but they do not say of her, “Ah, what a pretty woman!” They say:  “Madame de K.?  Ah! to be sure, a fine woman!” Do you perceive the difference? it is easy to grasp it.  That which charms in her is less what one sees than what one guesses at.  Ah! to be sure, a fine woman!  That is what is said after dinner when we have dined at her house, and when her husband, who unfortunately is in bad health and does not smoke, has gone to fetch cigars from his desk.  It is said in a low tone, as though in confidence; but from this affected reserve, it is easy to read conviction on the part of each of the guests.  The ladies in the drawing room do not suspect the charming freedom which characterizes the gossip of the gentlemen when they have gone into the smoking-room to puff their cigars over a cup of coffee.

“Yes, yes, she is a very fine woman.”

“Ah! the deuce, expansive beauty, opulent.”

“But poor De K. makes me feel anxious; he does not seem to get any better.  Does it not alarm you, Doctor?”

Every one smiles ‘sub rosa’ at the idea that poor De K., who has gone to fetch cigars, pines away visibly, while his wife is so well.

“He is foolish; he works too hard, as I have told him.  His position at the ministry—­thanks, I never take sugar.”

“But, really, it is serious, for after all he is not strong,” ventures a guest, gravely, biting his lips meanwhile to keep from laughing.