"Ah, Julienne! On your wedding-day, my dear, all the songs were hosannas and jubilates, and it really does seem that you are very happy and comfortable. Is it not so?"
"You are right, Madame Margot. Andrè and I are very happy, and we have many blessings to be thankful for."
"There is one thing," rejoined the wily lady, "which, allow me to say, people who have businesses to look after feel rather strongly. Ay, well do I and Margot know that business interferes terribly with domestic happiness."
"In what manner?" asked Julienne, in some surprise, for Madame Margot's experience did not "come home" to her. "I have never thought so, nor Andrè either, I believe."
"Why, my dear, when people are abroad they can't be at home," continued the inquisitress. "And as I and Margot feel that it is hard we
can be so very little together, I naturally think that other people must feel the same. But, however, we can enjoy our little walk in the evening. I am sure, my dear, you would like it all the better if you could do the same."
"I should," said Julienne; "but as Andrè's time is occupied, there is no use thinking about it. I can't think where he goes," added she, unguardedly and pensively.
Madame Margot pricked up her ears.
"Why, my dear!" exclaimed she, lowering her voice, as if about to say something of momentous importance, "do you mean to say that you don't know where he goes so many evenings in the week?" The good lady had always exercised a sharp scrutiny over the movements of her lord, and the bare idea of Julienne being ignorant of Andrè's proceedings excited her indignation and pity.
"I don't know, nor have I ever taken any trouble to know," answered Julienne, frankly and carelessly.