Theleader，whoappearedtheleastdilapidatedofthesewrecks，camegallantlyuptoMadamedeRouville，kissedherhand，andsatdownbyher。Theotherbowedandplacedhimselfnotfarfromhismodel，atadistancerepresentedbytwochairs。Adelaidecamebehindtheoldgentleman’sarmchairandleanedherelbowsontheback，unconsciouslyimitatingtheattitudegiventoDido’ssisterbyGuerininhisfamouspicture。
Thoughthegentleman’sfamiliaritywasthatofafather，hisfreedomseemedatthemomenttoannoytheyounggirl。
\"What，areyousulkywithme？\"hesaid。
ThenheshotatSchinneroneofthoseside—looksfullofshrewdnessandcunning，diplomaticlooks，whoseexpressionbetraysthediscreetuneasiness，thepolitecuriosityofwell—
bredpeople，andseemstoask，whentheyseeastranger，\"Isheoneofus？\"
\"Thisisourneighbor，\"saidtheoldlady，pointingtoHippolyte。
\"Monsieurisacelebratedpainter，whosenamemustbeknowntoyouinspiteofyourindifferencetothearts。\"
Theoldmansawhisfriend’smischievousintentinsuppressingthename，andbowedtotheyoungman。
\"Certainly，\"saidhe。\"IheardagreatdealabouthispicturesatthelastSalon。Talenthasimmenseprivileges。\"headded，observingtheartist’sredribbon。\"Thatdistinction，whichwemustearnatthecostofourbloodandlongservice，youwininyouryouth；butallgloryisofthesamekindred，\"hesaid，layinghishandonhisCrossofSaint—Louis。
Hippolytemurmuredafewwordsofacknowledgment，andwassilentagain，satisfiedtoadmirewithgrowingenthusiasmthebeautifulgirl’sheadthatcharmedhimsomuch。Hewassoonlostincontemplation，completelyforgettingtheextrememiseryofthedwelling。TohimAdelaide’sfacestoodoutagainstaluminousatmosphere。Herepliedbrieflytothequestionsaddressedtohim，which，bygoodluck，heheard，thankstoasingularfacultyofthesoulwhichsometimesseemstohaveadoubleconsciousness。
Whohasnotknownwhatitistositlostinsadordeliciousmeditation，listeningtoitsvoicewithin，whileattendingtoaconversationortoreading？Anadmirabledualitywhichoftenhelpsustotolerateabore！Hope，prolificandsmiling，pouredoutbeforehimathousandvisionsofhappiness；andherefusedtoconsiderwhatwasgoingonaroundhim。Asconfidingasachild，itseemedtohimbasetoanalyzeapleasure。
Afterashortlapseoftimeheperceivedthattheoldladyandherdaughterwereplayingcardswiththeoldgentleman。Astothesatellite，faithfultohisfunctionasashadow，hestoodbehindhisfriend’schairwatchinghisgame，andansweringtheplayer’smuteinquiriesbylittleapprovingnods，repeatingthequestioninggesturesoftheothercountenance。
\"DuHalga，Ialwayslose，\"saidthegentleman。
\"Youdiscardbadly，\"repliedtheBaronnedeRouville。
\"ForthreemonthsnowIhaveneverwonasinglegame，\"saidhe。
\"Haveyoutheaces？\"askedtheoldlady。
\"Yes，onemoretomark，\"saidhe。
\"ShallIcomeandadviseyou？\"saidAdelaide。
\"No，no。StaywhereIcanseeyou。ByGad，itwouldbelosingtoomuchnottohaveyoutolookat！\"
Atlastthegamewasover。Thegentlemanpulledouthispurse，and，throwingtwolouisd’oronthetable，notwithouttemper——
\"Fortyfrancs，\"heexclaimed，\"theexactsum。——Deucetakeit！Itiseleveno’clock。\"
\"Itiseleveno’clock，\"repeatedthesilentfigure，lookingatthepainter。
Theyoungman，hearingthesewordsrathermoredistinctlythanalltheothers，thoughtittimetoretire。Comingbacktotheworldofordinaryideas，hefoundafewcommonplaceremarkstomake，tookleaveoftheBaroness，herdaughter，andthetwostrangers，andwentaway，whollypossessedbythefirstrapturesoftruelove，withoutattemptingtoanalyzethelittleincidentsoftheevening。
OnthemorrowtheyoungpainterfeltthemostardentdesiretoseeAdelaideoncemore。Ifhehadfollowedthecallofhispassion，hewouldhavegonetohisneighbor’sdooratsixinthemorning，whenhewenttohisstudio。However，hestillwasreasonableenoughtowaittilltheafternoon。ButassoonashethoughthecouldpresenthimselftoMadamedeRouville，hewentdownstairs，rang，blushinglikeagirl，shylyaskedMademoiselleLeseigneur，whocametolethimin，tolethimhavetheportraitoftheBaron。
\"Butcomein，\"saidAdelaide，whohadnodoubtheardhimcomedownfromthestudio。
Thepainterfollowed，bashfulandoutofcountenance，notknowingwhattosay，happinesshadsodulledhiswit。ToseeAdelaide，toheartherustleofherskirt，afterlongingforawholemorningtobenearher，afterstartingupahundredtime——\"Iwillgodownnow\"——andnottohavegone；thiswastohimlifesorichthatsuchsensations，toogreatlyprolonged，wouldhavewornouthisspirit。Thehearthasthesingularpowerofgivingextraordinaryvaluetomerenothings。Whatjoyitistoatravelertotreasureabladeofgrass，anunfamiliarleaf，ifhehasriskedhislifetopluckit！Itisthesamewiththetriflesoflove。
Theoldladywasnotinthedrawing—room。Whentheyounggirlfoundherselfthere，alonewiththepainter，shebroughtachairtostandon，totakedownthepicture；butperceivingthatshecouldnotunhookitwithoutsettingherfootonthechestofdrawers，sheturnedtoHippolyte，andsaidwithablush：
\"Iamnottallenough。Willyougetitdown？\"
Afeelingofmodesty，betrayedintheexpressionofherfaceandthetonesofhervoice，wastherealmotiveofherrequest；andtheyoungman，understandingthis，gaveheroneofthoseglancesofintelligencewhicharethesweetestlanguageoflove。Seeingthatthepainterhadreadhersoul，Adelaidecastdownhereyeswiththeinstinctofreservewhichisthesecretofamaiden’sheart。Hippolyte，findingnothingtosay，andfeelingalmosttimid，tookdownthepicture，examineditgravely，carryingittothelightofthewindow，andthenwentaway，withoutsayingawordtoMademoiselleLeseigneurbut，\"Iwillreturnitsoon。\"
Duringthisbriefmomenttheybothwentthroughoneofthosestormsofagitationofwhichtheeffectsinthesoulmaybecomparedtothoseofastoneflungintoadeeplake。Themostdelightfulwavesofthoughtriseandfolloweachother，indescribable，repeated，andaimless，tossingtheheartlikethecircularripples，whichforalongtimefretthewaters，startingfromthepointwherethestonefell。
Hippolytereturnedtothestudiobearingtheportrait。Hiseaselwasreadywithafreshcanvas，andhispaletteset，hisbrushescleaned，thespotandthelightcarefullychosen。Andtillthedinnerhourheworkedatthepaintingwiththeardorartiststhrowintotheirwhims。HewentagainthateveningtotheBaronnedeRouville’s，andremainedfromninetilleleven。Exceptingthedifferenttopicsofconversation，thiseveningwasexactlylikethelast。Thetwooldmenarrivedatthesamehour，thesamegameofpiquetwasplayed，thesamespeechesmadebytheplayers，thesumlostbyAdelaide’sfriendwasnotlessconsiderablethanonthepreviousevening；onlyHippolyte，alittlebolder，venturedtochatwiththeyounggirl。
Aweekpassedthus，andinthecourseofitthepainter’sfeelingsandAdelaide’sunderwenttheslowanddelightfultransformationswhichbringtwosoulstoaperfectunderstanding。
Everydaythelookwithwhichthegirlwelcomedherfriendgrewmoreintimate，moreconfiding，gayer，andmoreopen；hervoiceandmannerbecamemoreeagerandmorefamiliar。Theylaughedandtalkedtogether，tellingeachothertheirthoughts，speakingofthemselveswiththesimplicityoftwochildrenwhohavemadefriendsinaday，asmuchasiftheyhadmetconstantlyforthreeyears。Schinnerwishedtobetaughtpiquet。Beingignorantandanovice，he，ofcourse，madeblunderafterblunder，andliketheoldman，helostalmosteverygame。Withouthavingspokenawordoflovetheloversknewthattheywereallinalltooneanother。
Hippolyteenjoyedexertinghispoweroverhisgentlelittlefriend，andmanyconcessionsweremadetohimbyAdelaide，who，timidanddevotedtohim，wasquitedeceivedbytheassumedfitsoftemper，suchastheleastskilledloverandthemostguilelessgirlcanaffect；andwhichtheyconstantlyplayoff，asspoiltchildrenabusethepowertheyowetotheirmother’saffection。
ThusallfamiliaritybetweenthegirlandtheoldCountwassoonputastopto。Sheunderstoodthepainter’smelancholy，andthethoughtshiddeninthefurrowsonhisbrow，fromtheabrupttoneofthefewwordshespokewhentheoldmanunceremoniouslykissedAdelaide’shandsorthroat。
MademoiselleLeseigneur，onherpart，soonexpectedherlovertogiveashortaccountofallhisactions；shewassounhappy，sorestlesswhenHippolytedidnotcome，shescoldedhimsoeffectuallyforhisabsence，thatthepainterhadtogiveupseeinghisotherfriends，andnowwentnowhere。Adelaideallowedthenaturaljealousyofwomentobeperceivedwhensheheardthatsometimesateleveno’clock，onquittingthehouse，thepainterstillhadvisitstopay，andwastobeseeninthemostbrilliantdrawing—roomsofParis。Thismodeoflife，sheassuredhim，wasbadforhishealth；then，withtheintenseconvictiontowhichtheaccent，theemphasisandthelookofonewelovelendsomuchweight，sheassertedthatamanwhowasobligedtoexpendhistimeandthecharmsofhiswitonseveralwomenatoncecouldnotbetheobjectofanyverywarmaffection。Thusthepainterwasled，asmuchbythetyrannyofhispassionasbytheexactionsofagirlinlove，toliveexclusivelyinthelittleapartmentwhereeverythingattractedhim。
Andneverwasthereapurerormoreardentlove。Onbothsidesthesametrustfulness，thesamedelicacy，gavetheirpassionincreasewithouttheaidofthosesacrificesbywhichmanypersonstrytoprovetheiraffection。Betweenthesetwotherewassuchaconstantinterchangeofsweetemotionthattheyknewnotwhichgaveorreceivedthemost。
Aspontaneousaffinitymadetheunionoftheirsoulsacloseone。
TheprogressofthistruefeelingwassorapidthattwomonthsaftertheaccidenttowhichthepainterowedthehappinessofknowingAdelaide，theirliveswereonelife。Fromearlymorningtheyounggirl，hearingfootstepsoverhead，couldsaytoherself，\"Heisthere。\"WhenHippolytewenthometohismotheratthedinnerhourheneverfailedtolookinonhisneighbors，andintheeveningheflewthereattheaccustomedhourwithalover’spunctuality。Thusthemosttyrannicalwomanorthemostambitiousinthematteroflovecouldnothavefoundthesmallestfaultwiththeyoungpainter。AndAdelaidetastedofunmixedandunboundedhappinessasshesawthefullestrealizationoftheidealofwhich，atherage，itissonaturaltodream。
Theoldgentlemannowcamemorerarely；Hippolyte，whohadbeenjealous，hadtakenhisplaceatthegreentable，andsharedhisconstantill—luckatcards。Andsometimes，inthemidstofhishappiness，asheconsideredMadamedeRouville’sdisastrousposition——forhehadhadmorethanoneproofofherextremepoverty——animportunatethoughtwouldhaunthim。Severaltimeshehadsaidtohimselfashewenthome，\"Strange！twentyfrancseveryevening？\"andhedarednotconfesstohimselfhisodioussuspicions。
Hespenttwomonthsovertheportrait，andwhenitwasfinished，varnished，andframed，helookeduponitasoneofhisbestworks。MadamelaBaronnedeRouvillehadneverspokenofitagain。Wasthisfromindifferenceorpride？Thepainterwouldnotallowhimselftoaccountforthissilence。HejoyfullyplottedwithAdelaidetohangthepictureinitsplacewhenMadamedeRouvilleshouldbeout。Sooneday，duringthewalkhermotherusuallytookintheTuileries，AdelaideforthefirsttimewentuptoHippolyte’sstudio，onthepretextofseeingtheportraitinthegoodlightinwhichithadbeenpainted。Shestoodspeechlessandmotionless，butinecstaticcontemplation，inwhichallawoman’sfeelingsweremerged。Foraretheynotallcomprehendedinboundlessadmirationforthemansheloves？Whenthepainter，uneasyathersilence，leanedforwardtolookather，sheheldoutherhand，unabletospeakaword，buttwotearsfellfromhereyes。Hippolytetookherhandandcovereditwithkisses；foraminutetheylookedateachotherinsilence，bothlongingtoconfesstheirlove，andnotdaring。Thepainterkeptherhandinhis，andthesameglow，thesamethrob，toldthemthattheirheartswerebothbeatingwildly。Theyounggirl，toogreatlyagitated，gentlydrewawayfromHippolyte，andsaid，withalookoftheutmostsimplicity：
\"Youwillmakemymotherveryhappy。\"
\"What，onlyyourmother？\"heasked。
\"Oh，Iamtoohappy。\"
Thepainterbenthisheadandremainedsilent，frightenedatthevehemenceofthefeelingswhichhertonesstirredinhisheart。
Then，bothunderstandingtheperilsofthesituation，theywentdownstairsandhungupthepictureinitsplace。HippolytedinedforthefirsttimewiththeBaroness，who，greatlyovercome，anddrownedintears，mustneedsembracehim。
Intheeveningtheoldemigre，theBarondeRouville’soldcomrade，paidtheladiesavisittoannouncethathehadjustbeenpromotedtotherankofvice—admiral。HisvoyagesbylandoverGermanyandRussiahadbeencountedasnavalcampaigns。Onseeingtheportraithecordiallyshookthepainter’shand，andexclaimed，\"ByGad！thoughmyoldhulkdoesnotdeservetobeperpetuated，IwouldgladlygivefivehundredpistolestoseemyselfaslikeasthatistomydearoldRouville。\"
AtthishinttheBaronesslookedatheryoungfriendandsmiled，whileherfacelightedupwithanexpressionofsuddengratitude。
Hippolytesuspectedthattheoldadmiralwishedtoofferhimthepriceofbothportraitswhilepayingforhisown。Hisprideasanartist，nolessthanhisjealousyperhaps，tookoffenceatthethought，andhereplied：
\"Monsieur，ifIwereaportrait—painterIshouldnothavedonethisone。\"
Theadmiralbithislip，andsatdowntocards。
ThepainterremainednearAdelaide，whoproposedadozenhandsofpiquet，towhichheagreed。AsheplayedheobservedinMadamedeRouvilleanexcitementoverhergamewhichsurprisedhim。NeverbeforehadtheoldBaronessmanifestedsoardentadesiretowin，orsokeenajoyinfingeringtheoldgentleman’sgoldpieces。
DuringtheeveningevilsuspicionstroubledHippolyte’shappiness，andfilledhimwithdistrust。CoulditbethatMadamedeRouvillelivedbygambling？Wassheplayingatthismomenttopayoffsomedebt，orunderthepressureofnecessity？Perhapsshehadnotpaidherrent。Theoldmanseemedshrewdenoughnottoallowhismoneytobetakenwithimpunity。Whatinterestattractedhimtothispoverty—strickenhouse，hewhowasrich？
Why，whenhehadformerlybeensofamiliarwithAdelaide，hadhegivenuptherightshehadacquired，andwhichwereperhapshisdue？
TheseinvoluntaryreflectionspromptedhimtowatchtheoldmanandtheBaroness，whosemeaninglooksandcertainsidelongglancescastatAdelaidedispleasedhim。\"AmIbeingduped？\"wasHippolyte’slastidea——horrible，scathing，forhebelieveditjustenoughtobetorturedbyit。Hedeterminedtostayafterthedepartureofthetwooldmen，toconfirmordissipatehissuspicions。HedrewouthispursetopayAdelaide；butcarriedawaybyhispoignantthoughts，helaiditonthetable，fallingintoareverieofbriefduration；then，ashamedofhissilence，herose，answeredsomecommonplacequestionfromMadamedeRouville，andwentcloseuptohertoexaminethewitheredfeatureswhilehewastalkingtoher。
Hewentaway，rackedbyathousanddoubts。Hehadgonedownbutafewstepswhenheturnedbacktofetchtheforgottenpurse。
\"Ileftmypursehere！\"hesaidtotheyounggirl。
\"No，\"shesaid，reddening。
\"Ithoughtitwasthere，\"andhepointedtothecard—table。Notfindingit，inhisshameforAdelaideandtheBaroness，helookedatthemwithablankamazementthatmadethemlaugh，turnedpale，felthiswaistcoat，andsaid，\"Imusthavemadeamistake。Ihaveitsomewherenodoubt。\"
Inoneendofthepursetherewerefifteenlouisd’or，andintheothersomesmallchange。Thetheftwassoflagrant，anddeniedwithsucheffrontery，thatHippolytenolongerfeltadoubtastohisneighbors’morals。Hestoodstillonthestairs，andgotdownwithsomedifficulty；hiskneesshook，hefeltdizzy，hewasinacoldsweat，heshivered，andfoundhimselfunabletowalk，struggling，ashewas，withtheagonizingshockcausedbythedestructionofallhishopes。Andatthismomenthefoundlurkinginhismemoryanumberofobservations，triflinginthemselves，butwhichcorroboratedhisfrightfulsuspicions，andwhich，byprovingthecertaintyofthislastincident，openedhiseyesastothecharacterandlifeofthesetwowomen。
Hadtheyreallywaitedtilltheportraitwasgiventhembeforerobbinghimofhispurse？Insuchacombinationthetheftwasevenmoreodious。ThepainterrecollectedthatforthelasttwoorthreeeveningsAdelaide，whileseemingtoexaminewithagirl’scuriositytheparticularstitchofthewornsilknetting，wasprobablycountingthecoinsinthepurse，whilemakingsomelightjests，quiteinnocentinappearance，butnodoubtwiththeobjectofwatchingforamomentwhenthesumwasworthstealing。
\"TheoldadmiralhasperhapsgoodreasonsfornotmarryingAdelaide，andsotheBaronesshastried————\"
Butatthishypothesishecheckedhimself，notfinishinghisthought，whichwascontradictedbyaveryjustreflection，\"IftheBaronesshopestogetmetomarryherdaughter，\"thoughthe，\"theywouldnothaverobbedme。\"
Then，clingingtohisillusions，tothelovethatalreadyhadtakensuchdeeproot，hetriedtofindajustificationinsomeaccident。\"Thepursemusthavefallenonthefloor，\"saidhetohimself，\"orIleftitlyingonmychair。OrperhapsIhaveitaboutme——Iamsoabsent—minded！\"Hesearchedhimselfwithhurriedmovements，butdidnotfindtheill—starredpurse。Hismemorycruellyretracedthefataltruth，minutebyminute。Hedistinctlysawthepurselyingonthegreencloth；butthen，doubtfulnolonger，heexcusedAdelaide，tellinghimselfthatpersonsinmisfortuneshouldnotbesohastilycondemned。Therewas，ofcourse，somesecretbehindthisapparentlydegradingaction。Hewouldnotadmitthatthatproudandnoblefacewasalie。
Atthesametimethewretchedroomsrosebeforehim，denudedofthepoetryoflovewhichbeautifieseverything；hesawthemdirtyandfaded，regardingthemasemblematicofaninnerlifedevoidofhonor，idleandvicious。Arenotourfeelingswritten，asitwere，onthethingsaboutus？
Nextmorningherose，nothavingslept。Theheartache，thatterriblemaladyofthesoul，hadmaderapidinroads。Tolosetheblisswedreamedof，torenounceourwholefuture，isakeenerpangthanthatcausedbythelossofknownhappiness，howevercompleteitmayhavebeen；forisnotHopebetterthanMemory？
Thethoughtsintowhichourspiritissuddenlyplungedarelikeashorelesssea，inwhichwemayswimforamoment，butwhereourloveisdoomedtodrownanddie。Anditisafrightfuldeath。Arenotourfeelingsthemostgloriouspartofourlife？Itisthispartialdeathwhich，incertaindelicateorpowerfulnatures，leadstotheterribleruinproducedbydisenchantment，byhopesandpassionsbetrayed。Thusitwaswiththeyoungpainter。HewentoutataveryearlyhourtowalkunderthefreshshadeoftheTuileries，absorbedinhisthoughts，forgettingeverythingintheworld。
Therebychancehemetoneofhismostintimatefriends，aschool—fellowandstudio—mate，withwhomhehadlivedonbettertermsthanwithabrother。
\"Why，Hippolyte，whatailsyou？\"askedFrancoisSouchet，theyoungsculptorwhohadjustwonthefirstprize，andwassoontosetoutforItaly。
\"Iammostunhappy，\"repliedHippolytegravely。
\"Nothingbutaloveaffaircancauseyougrief。Money，glory，respect——youlacknothing。\"
Insensiblythepainterwasledintoconfidences，andconfessedhislove。ThemomenthementionedtheRuedeSuresnes，andayounggirllivingonthefourthfloor，\"Stop，stop，\"criedSouchetlightly。\"AlittlegirlIseeeverymorningattheChurchoftheAssumption，andwithwhomIhaveaflirtation。But，mydearfellow，weallknowher。ThemotherisaBaroness。DoyoureallybelieveinaBaronesslivingupfourflightsofstairs？
Brrr！Why，youarearelicofthegoldenage！Weseetheoldmotherhere，inthisavenue，everyday；why，herface，herappearance，telleverything。What，haveyounotknownherforwhatsheisbythewaysheholdsherbag？\"
Thetwofriendswalkedupanddownforsometime，andseveralyoungmenwhoknewSouchetorSchinnerjoinedthem。Thepainter’sadventure，whichthesculptorregardedasunimportant，wasrepeatedbyhim。
\"Sohe，too，hasseenthatyounglady！\"saidSouchet。
Andthentherewerecomments，laughter，innocentmockery，fullofthelivelinessfamiliartoartists，butwhichpainedHippolytefrightfully。Acertainnativereticencemadehimuncomfortableashesawhisheart’ssecretsocarelesslyhandled，hispassionrent，torntotatters，ayoungandunknowngirl，whoselifeseemedtobesomodest，thevictimofcondemnation，rightorwrong，butpronouncedwithsuchrecklessindifference。Hepretendedtobemovedbyaspiritofcontradiction，askingeachforproofsofhisassertions，andtheirjestsbeganagain。
\"But，mydearboy，haveyouseentheBaroness’shawl？\"askedSouchet。
\"Haveyoueverfollowedthegirlwhenshepattersofftochurchinthemorning？\"saidJosephBridau，ayoungdauberinGros’
studio。
\"Oh，themotherhasamongothervirtuesacertaingraygown，whichIregardastypical，\"saidBixiou，thecaricaturist。
\"Listen，Hippolyte，\"thesculptorwenton。\"Comehereataboutfouro’clock，andjuststudythewalkofbothmotheranddaughter。Ifafterthatyoustillhavedoubts！well，noonecanevermakeanythingofyou；youwouldbecapableofmarryingyourporter’sdaughter。
Tornbythemostconflictingfeelings，thepainterpartedfromhisfriends。ItseemedtohimthatAdelaideandhermothermustbesuperiortotheseaccusations，andatthebottomofhishearthewasfilledwithremorseforhavingsuspectedthepurityofthisbeautifulandsimplegirl。Hewenttohisstudio，passingthedooroftheroomswhereAdelaidewas，andconsciousofapainathisheartwhichnomancanmisapprehend。HelovedMademoiselledeRouvillesopassionatelythat，inspiteofthetheftofthepurse，hestillworshipedher。HislovewasthatoftheChevalierdesGrieuxadmiringhismistress，andholdingheraspure，evenonthecartwhichcarriessuchlostcreaturestoprison。\"Whyshouldnotmylovekeepherthepurestofwomen？Whyabandonhertoevilandtovicewithoutholdingoutarescuinghandtoher？\"
Theideaofthismissionpleasedhim。Lovemakesagainofeverything。Nothingtemptsayoungmanmorethantoplaythepartofagoodgeniustoawoman。Thereissomethinginexplicablyromanticinsuchanenterprisewhichappealstoahighly—strungsoul。Isitnottheutmoststretchofdevotionundertheloftiestandmostengagingaspect？Istherenotsomethinggrandinthethoughtthatweloveenoughstilltoloveonwhentheloveofothersdwindlesanddies？
Hippolytesatdowninhisstudio，gazedathispicturewithoutdoinganythingtoit，seeingthefiguresthroughtearsthatswelledinhiseyes，holdinghisbrushinhishand，goinguptothecanvasasiftosoftendownaneffect，butnottouchingit。
Nightfell，andhewasstillinthisattitude。Rousedfromhismoodinessbythedarkness，hewentdownstairs，mettheoldadmiralontheway，lookeddarklyathimashebowed，andfled。
Hehadintendedgoingintoseetheladies，butthesightofAdelaide’sprotectorfrozehisheartanddispelledhispurpose。
Forthehundredthtimehewonderedwhatinterestcouldbringthisoldprodigal，withhiseightythousandfrancsayear，tothisfourthstory，wherehelostaboutfortyfrancseveryevening；andhethoughthecouldguesswhatitwas。
ThenextandfollowingdaysHippolytethrewhimselfintohiswork，andtotrytoconquerhispassionbytheswiftrushofideasandtheardorofcomposition。Hehalfsucceeded。Studyconsoledhim，thoughitcouldnotsmotherthememoriesofsomanytenderhoursspentwithAdelaide。
Oneevening，ashelefthisstudio，hesawthedooroftheladies’roomshalfopen。Somebodywasstandingintherecessofthewindow，andthepositionofthedoorandthestaircasemadeitimpossiblethatthepaintershouldpasswithoutseeingAdelaide。Hebowedcoldly，withaglanceofsupremeindifference；
butjudgingofthegirl’ssufferingbyhisown，hefeltaninwardshudderashereflectedonthebitternesswhichthatlookandthatcoldnessmustproduceinalovingheart。Tocrownthemostdelightfulfeastwhicheverbroughtjoytotwopuresouls，byeightdaysofdisdain，ofthedeepestandmostuttercontempt！——A
frightfulconclusion。Andperhapsthepursehadbeenfound，perhapsAdelaidehadlookedforherfriendeveryevening。
Thissimpleandnaturalideafilledtheloverwithfreshremorse；
heaskedhimselfwhethertheproofsofattachmentgivenhimbytheyounggirl，thedelightfultalks，fullofthelovethathadsocharmedhim，didnotdeserveatleastaninquiry；werenotworthyofsomejustification。Ashamedofhavingresistedthepromptingsofhisheartforawholeweek，andfeelinghimselfalmostacriminalinthismentalstruggle，hecalledthesameeveningonMadamedeRouville。
Allhissuspicions，allhisevilthoughtsvanishedatthesightoftheyounggirl，whohadgrownpaleandthin。
\"Goodheavens！whatisthematter？\"heaskedher，aftergreetingtheBaroness。
Adelaidemadenoreply，butshegavehimalookofdeepmelancholy，asad，dejectedlook，whichpainedhim。
\"Youhave，nodoubt，beenworkinghard，\"saidtheoldlady。\"Youarealtered。Wearethecauseofyourseclusion。Thatportraithaddelayedsomepicturesessentialtoyourreputation。\"
Hippolytewasgladtofindsogoodanexcuseforhisrudeness。
\"Yes，\"hesaid，\"Ihavebeenverybusy，butIhavebeensuffering————\"
AtthesewordsAdelaideraisedherhead，lookedatherlover，andheranxiouseyeshadnownohintofreproach。
\"Youmusthavethoughtusquiteindifferenttoanygoodorillthatmaybefallyou？\"saidtheoldlady。
\"Iwaswrong，\"hereplied。\"Still，thereareformsofpainwhichweknownothowtoconfidetoanyone，eventoafriendshipofolderdatethanthatwithwhichyouhonorme。\"
\"Thesincerityandstrengthoffriendshiparenottobemeasuredbytime。Ihaveseenoldfriendswhohadnotateartobestowonmisfortune，\"saidtheBaroness，noddingsadly。
\"Butyou——whatailsyou？\"theyoungmanaskedAdelaide。
\"Oh，nothing，\"repliedtheBaroness。\"Adelaidehassatuplateforsomenightstofinishsomelittlepieceofwoman’swork，andwouldnotlistentomewhenItoldherthatadaymoreorlessdidnotmatter————\"
Hippolytewasnotlistening。Ashelookedatthesetwonoble，calmfaces，heblushedforhissuspicions，andascribedthelossofhispursetosomeunknownaccident。
Thiswasadeliciouseveningtohim，andperhapstohertoo。
Therearesomesecretswhichyoungsoulsunderstandsowell。
AdelaidecouldreadHippolyte’sthoughts。Thoughhecouldnotconfesshismisdeeds，thepainterknewthem，andhehadcomebacktohismistressmoreinlove，andmoreaffectionate，tryingthustopurchasehertacitforgiveness。Adelaidewasenjoyingsuchperfect，suchsweethappiness，thatshedidnotthinkshehadpaidtoodearforitwithallthegriefthathadsocruellycrushedhersoul。Andyet，thistrueconcordofhearts，thisunderstandingsofullofmagiccharm，wasdisturbedbyalittlespeechofMadamedeRouville’s。
\"Letushaveourlittlegame，\"shesaid，\"formyoldfriendKergarouetwillnotletmeoff。\"
Thesewordsrevivedalltheyoungpainter’sfears；hecoloredashelookedatAdelaide’smother，buthesawnothinginhercountenancebuttheexpressionofthefrankestgood—nature；nodoublemeaningmarreditscharm；itskeennesswasnotperifidious，itshumorseemedkindly，andnotraceofremorsedisturbeditsequanimity。
Hesatdowntothecard—table。Adelaidetooksidewiththepainter，sayingthathedidnotknowpiquet，andneededapartner。
AllthroughthegameMadamedeRouvilleandherdaughterexchangedlooksofintelligence，whichalarmedHippolyteallthemorebecausehewaswinning；butatlastafinalhandlefttheloversintheoldlady’sdebt。
Tofeelforsomemoneyinhispocketthepaintertookhishandsoffthetable，andhethensawbeforehimapursewhichAdelaidehadslippedinfrontofhimwithouthisnoticingit；thepoorchildhadtheoldoneinherhand，and，tokeephercountenance，waslookingintoitforthemoneytopayhermother。ThebloodrushedtoHippolyte’sheartwithsuchforcethathewasnearfainting。
Thenewpurse，substitutedforhisown，andwhichcontainedhisfifteengoldlouis，wasworkedwithgiltbeads。TheringsandtasselsborewitnesstoAdelaide’sgoodtaste，andshehadnodoubtspentallherlittlehoardinornamentingthisprettypieceofwork。Itwasimpossibletosaywithgreaterdelicacythatthepainter’sgiftcouldonlyberepaidbysomeproofofaffection。
Hippolyte，overcomewithhappiness，turnedtolookatAdelaideandhermother，andsawthattheyweretremulouswithpleasureanddelightattheirlittletrick。Hefelthimselfmean，sordid，afool；helongedtopunishhimself，torendhisheart。Afewtearsrosetohiseyes；byanirresistibleimpulsehesprangup，claspedAdelaideinhisarms，pressedhertohisheart，andstoleakiss；thenwiththesimpleheartinessofanartist，\"Iaskforherformywife！\"heexclaimed，lookingattheBaroness。
Adelaidelookedathimwithhalf—wrathfuleyes，andMadamedeRouville，somewhatastonished，wasconsideringherreply，whenthescenewasinterruptedbyaringatthebell。Theoldvice—
admiralcamein，followedbyhisshadow，andMadameSchinner。
Havingguessedthecauseofthegriefhersonvainlyendeavoredtoconceal，Hippolyte’smotherhadmadeinquiriesamongherfriendsconcerningAdelaide。Veryjustlyalarmedbythecalumnieswhichweighedontheyounggirl，unknowntotheComtedeKergarouet，whosenameshelearnedfromtheporter’swife，shewenttoreportthemtothevice—admiral；andhe，inhisrage，declared\"hewouldcropallthescoundrels’earsforthem。\"
Then，promptedbyhiswrath，hewentontoexplaintoMadameSchinnerthesecretofhislosingintentionallyatcards，becausetheBaronne’spridelefthimnonebuttheseingeniousmeansofassistingher。
WhenMadameSchinnerhadpaidherrespectstoMadamedeRouville，theBaronesslookedattheComtedeKergarouet，attheChevalierduHalga——thefriendofthedepartedComtessedeKergarouet——atHippolyte，andAdelaide，andsaid，withthegracethatcomesfromtheheart，\"Soweareafamilypartythisevening。\"
PARIS，May1832