Edouard Riviere was unhappy. She never came out now. This alonemade the days dark to him. And then he began to fear it was him sheshunned. She must have seen him lie in wait for her; and so shewould come out no more. He prowled about and contrived to fall inwith Jacintha; he told her his grief. She assured him the simplefact was their mourning was worn out, and they were ashamed to goabroad in colors. This revelation made his heart yearn still more.

　　"O Jacintha," said he, "if I could only make a beginning; but herewe might live a century in the same parish, and not one chance for apoor wretch to make acquaintance."Jacintha admitted this, and said gentlefolks were to be pitied.

　　"Why, if it was the likes of me, you and I should have made friendslong before now."Jacintha herself was puzzled what to do; she would have told Rose ifshe had felt sure it would be well received; but she could not findout that the young lady had even noticed the existence of Edouard.

　　But her brain worked, and lay in wait for an opportunity.

　　One came sooner than she expected. One morning at about sixo'clock, as she came home from milking the cow, she caught sight ofyoung Riviere trying to open the iron gate. "What is up now?"thought she; suddenly the truth flashed upon her, clear as day. Sheput her pail down and stole upon him. "You want to leave us anotherpurse," said she. He colored all over and panted.

　　"How did you know? how could you know? you won't betray me? youwon't be so cruel? you promised.""Me betray you," said Jacintha; "why, I'll help you; and then theywill be able to buy mourning, you know, and then they will come out,and give you a chance. You can't open that gate, for it's locked.

　　But you come round to the lane, and I'll get you the key; it ishanging up in the kitchen."The key was in her pocket. But the sly jade wanted him away fromthat gate; it commanded a view of the Pleasaunce. He was no soonersafe in the lane, than she tore up-stairs to her young ladies, andasked them with affected calm whether they would like to know wholeft the purse.

　　"Oh, yes, yes!" screamed Rose.

　　"Then come with me. You ARE dressed; never mind your bonnets, oryou will be too late."Questions poured on her; but she waived all explanation, and did notgive them time to think, or Josephine, for one, she knew would raiseobjections. She led the way to the Pleasaunce, and, when she got tothe ancestral oak, she said hurriedly, "Now, mesdemoiselles, hide inthere, and as still as mice. You'll soon know who leaves the purses."With this she scudded to the lane, and gave Edouard the key. "Looksharp," said she, "before they get up; it's almost their dressingtime.""YOU'LL SOON KNOW WHO LEAVES THE PURSES!"Curiosity, delicious curiosity, thrilled our two daughters of Eve.

　　This soon began to alternate with chill misgivings at the novelty ofthe situation.

　　"She is not coming back," said Josephine ruefully.

　　"No," said Rose, "and suppose when we pounce out on him, it shouldbe a stranger.""Pounce on him? surely we are not to do that?""Oh, y-yes; that is the p-p-programme," quavered Rose.

　　A key grated, and the iron gate creaked on its hinges. They rantogether and pinched one another for mutual support, but did notdare to speak.

　　Presently a man's shadow came slap into the tree. They crouched andquivered, and expected to be caught instead of catching, and wishedthemselves safe back in bed, and all this a nightmare, and no worse.

　　At last they recovered themselves enough to observe that thisshadow, one half of which lay on the ground, while the head andshoulders went a little way up the wall of the tree, represented aman's profile, not his front face. The figure, in short, wasstanding between them and the sun, and was contemplating thechateau, not the tree.

　　The shadow took off its hat to Josephine, in the tree. Then wouldshe have screamed if she had not bitten her white hand instead, andmade a red mark thereon.

　　It wiped its brow with a handkerchief; it had walked fast, poorthing! The next moment it was away.

　　They looked at one another and panted. They scarcely dared do itbefore. Then Rose, with one hand on her heaving bosom, shook herlittle white fist viciously at where the figure must be, and perhapsa comical desire of vengeance stimulated her curiosity. She nowglided through the fissure like a cautious panther from her den; andnoiseless and supple as a serpent began to wind slowly round thetree. She soon came to a great protuberance in the tree, andtwining and peering round it with diamond eye, she saw a very young,very handsome gentleman, stealing on tiptoe to the nearest flower-bed. Then she saw him take a purse out of his bosom, and drop it onthe bed. This done, he came slowly past the tree again, and waseven heard to vent a little innocent chuckle of intense satisfaction:

　　but of brief duration; for, when Rose saw the purse leave his hand,she made a rapid signal to Josephine to wheel round the other sideof the tree, and, starting together with admirable concert, boththe daughters of Beaurepaire glided into sight with a vast appearanceof composure.

　　Two women together are really braver than fifteen separate; butstill, most of this tranquillity was merely put on, but so admirablythat Edouard Riviere had no chance with them. He knew nothing abouttheir tremors; all he saw or heard was, a rustle, then a flap oneach side of him as of great wings, and two lovely women were uponhim with angelic swiftness. "Ah!" he cried out with a start, andglanced from the first-comer, Rose, to the gate. But Josephine wason that side by this time, and put up her hand, as much as to say,"You can't pass here." In such situations, the mind works quickerthan lightning. He took off his hat, and stammered an excuse--"Cometo look at the oak." At this moment Rose pounced on the purse, andheld it up to Josephine. He was caught. His only chance now was tobolt for the mark and run; but it was not the notary, it was anovice who lost his presence of mind, or perhaps thought it rude torun when a lady told him to stand still. All he did was to crushhis face into his two hands, round which his cheeks and neck nowblushed red as blood. Blush? they could both see the color rushlike a wave to the very roots of his hair and the tips of hisfingers.

　　The moment our heroines, who, in that desperation which is one ofthe forms of cowardice, had hurled themselves on the foe, saw this,flash--the quick-witted poltroons exchanged purple lightning overEdouard's drooping head, and enacted lionesses in a moment.

　　It was with the quiet composure of lofty and powerful natures thatJosephine opened on him. "Compose yourself, sir; and be so good asto tell us who you are." Edouard must answer. Now he could notspeak through his hands; and he could not face a brace of tranquillionesses: so he took a middle course, removed one hand, and shadinghimself from Josephine with the other, he gasped out, "I am--my nameis Riviere; and I--I--ladies!""I am afraid we frighten you," said Josephine, demurely.

　　"Don't be frightened," said Rose, majestically; "we are not VERYangry, only a LITTLE curious to know why you water our flowers withgold."At this point-blank thrust, and from her, Edouard was so confoundedand distressed, they both began to pity him. He stammered out thathe was so confused he did not know what to say. He couldn't thinkhow ever he could have taken such a liberty; might he be permittedto retire? and with this he tried to slip away.

　　"Let me detain you one instant," said Josephine, and made for thehouse.

　　Left alone so suddenly with the culprit, the dignity, and majesty,and valor of Rose seemed to ooze gently out; and she stood blushing,and had not a word to say; no more had Edouard. But he hung hishead, and she hung her head. And, somehow or other, whenever sheraised her eyes to glance at him, he raised his to steal a look ather, and mutual discomfiture resulted.

　　This awkward, embarrassing delirium was interrupted by Josephine'sreturn. She now held another purse in her hand, and quietly pouredthe rest of the coin into it. She then, with a blush, requested himto take back the money.

　　At that he found his tongue. "No, no," he cried, and put up hishands in supplication. "Ladies, do let me speak ONE word to you.

　　Do not reject my friendship. You are alone in the world; yourfather is dead; your mother has but you to lean on. After all, I amyour neighbor, and neighbors should be friends. And I am yourdebtor; I owe you more than you could ever owe me; for ever since Icame into this neighborhood I have been happy. No man was ever sohappy as I, ever since one day I was walking, and met for the firsttime an angel. I don't say it was you, Mademoiselle Rose. It mightbe Mademoiselle Josephine.""How pat he has got our names," said Rose, smiling.

　　"A look from that angel has made me so good, so happy. I used tovegetate, but now I live. Live! I walk on wings, and tread onroses. Yet you insist on declining a few miserable louis d'or fromhim who owes you so much. Well, don't be angry; I'll take themback, and throw them into the nearest pond, for they are really nouse to me. But then you will be generous in your turn. You willaccept my devotion, my services. You have no brother, you know;well, I have no sisters; let me be your brother, and your servantforever."At all this, delivered in as many little earnest pants as there weresentences, the water stood in the fair eyes he was looking into sopiteously.

　　Josephine was firm, but angelical. "We thank you, MonsieurRiviere," said she, softly, "for showing us that the world is stillembellished with hearts like yours. Here is the money;" and sheheld it out in her creamy hand.

　　"But we are very grateful," put in Rose, softly and earnestly.

　　"That we are," said Josephine, "and we beg to keep the purse as asouvenir of one who tried to do us a kindness without mortifying us.

　　And now, Monsieur Riviere, you will permit us to bid you adieu."Edouard was obliged to take the hint. "It is I who am theintruder," said he. "Mesdemoiselles, conceive, if you can, my prideand my disappointment." He then bowed low; they courtesied low tohim in return; and he retired slowly in a state of mixed feelingindescribable.

　　With all their sweetness and graciousness, he felt overpowered bytheir high breeding, their reserve, and their composure, in asituation that had set his heart beating itself nearly out of hisbosom. He acted the scene over again, only much more adroitly, andconcocted speeches for past use, and was very hot and very cold byturns.

　　I wish he could have heard what passed between the sisters as soonas ever he was out of earshot. It would have opened his eyes, andgiven him a little peep into what certain writers call "the sex.""Poor boy," murmured Josephine, "he has gone away unhappy.""Oh, I dare say he hasn't gone far," replied Rose, gayly. "Ishouldn't if I was a boy."Josephine held up her finger like an elder sister; then went on tosay she really hardly knew why she had dismissed him.

　　"Well, dear," said Rose, dryly, "since you admit so much, I must sayI couldn't help thinking--while you were doing it--we were letting'the poor boy' off ridiculously cheap.""At least I did my duty?" suggested Josephine, inquiringly.

　　"Magnificently; you overawed even me. So now to business, as thegentlemen say. Which of us two takes him?""Takes whom?" inquired Josephine, opening her lovely eyes.

　　"Edouard," murmured Rose, lowering hers.

　　Josephine glared on the lovely minx with wonder and comical horror.

　　"Oh! you shall have him," said Rose, "if you like. You are theeldest, you know.""Fie!""Do now; TO OBLIGE ME.""For shame! Rose. Is this you? talking like that!""Oh! there's no compulsion, dear; I never force young ladies'

　　inclinations. So you decline him?""Of course I decline him.""Then, oh, you dear, darling Josephine, this is the prettiestpresent you ever made me," and she kissed her vehemently.

　　Josephine was frightened now. She held Rose out at arm's lengthwith both hands, and looked earnestly into her, and implored her notto play with fire. "Take warning by me."Rose recommended her to keep her pity for Monsieur Riviere, "who hadfallen into nice hands," she said. That no doubt might remain onthat head, she whispered mysteriously, but with much gravity andconviction, "I am an Imp;" and aimed at Josephine with herforefinger to point the remark. For one second she stood andwatched this important statement sink into her sister's mind, thenset-to and gambolled elfishly round her as she moved stately andthoughtful across the grass to the chateau.

　　Two days after this a large tree was blown down in Beaurepaire park,and made quite a gap in the prospect. You never know what a bigthing a leafy tree is till it comes down. And this ill wind blewEdouard good; for it laid bare the chateau to his inquiringtelescope. He had not gazed above half an hour, when a femalefigure emerged from the chateau. His heart beat. It was onlyJacintha. He saw her look this way and that, and presently Dardappeared, and she sent him with his axe to the fallen tree. Edouardwatched him hacking away at it. Presently his heart gave a violentleap; for why? two ladies emerged from the Pleasaunce and walkedacross the park. They came up to Dard, and stood looking at thetree and Dard hacking it, and Edouard watched them greedily. Youknow we all love to magnify her we love. And this was a delightfulway of doing it. It is "a system of espionage" that prevails underevery form of government. How he gazed, and gazed, on his now polarstar; studied every turn, every gesture, with eager delight, andtried to gather what she said, or at least the nature of it.

　　But by and by they left Dard and strolled towards the other end ofthe park. Then did our astronomer fling down his tube, and comerunning out in hopes of intercepting them, and seeming to meet themby some strange fortuity. Hope whispered he should be blessed witha smile; perhaps a word even. So another minute and he was runningup the road to Beaurepaire. But his good heart was doomed to bediverted to a much humbler object than his idol; as he came near thefallen tree he heard loud cries for help, followed by groans ofpain. He bounded over the hedge, and there was Dard hanging overhis axe, moaning. "What is the matter? what is the matter?" criedEdouard, running to him.

　　"Oh! oh! cut my foot. Oh!"Edouard looked, and turned sick, for there was a gash right throughDard's shoe, and the blood welling up through it. But, recoveringhimself by an effort of the will, he cried out, "Courage, my lad!

　　don't give in. Thank Heaven there's no artery there. Oh, dear, itis a terrible cut! Let us get you home, that is the first thing.

　　Can you walk?""Lord bless you, no! nor stand neither without help."Edouard flew to the wheelbarrow, and, reversing it, spun a lot ofbillet out. "Ye must not do that," said Dard with all the energy hewas capable of in his present condition. "Why, that is Jacintha'swood."--"To the devil with Jacintha and her wood too!" criedEdouard, "a man is worth more than a fagot. Come, I shall wheel youhome: it is only just across the park."With some difficulty he lifted him into the barrow. Luckily he hadhis shooting-jacket on with a brandy-flask in it: he administered itwith excellent effect.

　　The ladies, as they walked, saw a man wheeling a barrow across thepark, and took no particular notice; but, as Riviere was making forthe same point they were, though at another angle, presently thebarrow came near enough for them to see Dard's head and arms in it.

　　Rose was the first to notice this. "Look! look! if he is notwheeling Dard in the barrow now.""Who?""Can you ask? Who provides all our excitement?"Josephine instantly divined there was something amiss. "Consider,"said she, "Monsieur Riviere would not wheel Dard all across the parkfor amusement."Rose assented; and in another minute, by a strange caprice of fate,those Edouard had come to intercept, quickened their pace tointercept him. As soon as he saw their intention he thrilled allover, but did not slacken his pace. He told Dard to take his coatand throw it over his foot, for here were the young ladies coming.

　　"What for?" said Dard sulkily. "No! let them see what they havedone with their little odd jobs: this is my last for one while. Isha'n't go on two legs again this year."The ladies came up with them.

　　"O monsieur!" said Josephine, "what is the matter?""We have met with a little accident, mademoiselle, that is all.

　　Dard has hurt his foot; nothing to speak of, but I thought he wouldbe best at home."Rose raised the coat which Riviere, in spite of Dard, had flung overhis foot.

　　"He is bleeding! Dard is bleeding! Oh, my poor Dard. Oh! oh!""Hush, Rose!""No, don't put him out of heart, mademoiselle. Take another pull atthe flask, Dard. If you please, ladies, I must have him homewithout delay.""Oh yes, but I want him to have a surgeon," cried Josephine. "Andwe have no horses nor people to send off as we used to have.""But you have me, mademoiselle," said Edouard tenderly. "Me, whowould go to the world's end for you." He said this to Josephine,but his eye sought Rose. "I'm a famous runner," he added, a littlebumptiously; "I'll be at the town in half an hour, and send asurgeon up full gallop.""You have a good heart," said Rose simply.

　　He bowed his blushing, delighted face, and wheeled Dard to hiscottage hard by with almost more than mortal vigor. How softly, hownobly, that frolicsome girl could speak! Those sweet words rang inhis ears and ran warm round and round his heart, as he straightenedhis arms and his back to the work. When they had gone about ahundred yards, a single snivel went off in the wheelbarrow. Fiveminutes after, Dard was at home in charge of his grandmother, hisshoe off, his foot in a wet linen cloth; and Edouard, his coat tiedround the neck, squared his shoulders, and ran the two short leaguesout. He ran them in forty minutes, found the surgeon at home, toldthe case, pooh-poohed that worthy's promise to go to the patientpresently, darted into his stable, saddled the horse, brought himround, saw the surgeon into the saddle, started him, dined at therestaurateur's, strolled back, and was in time to get a good look atthe chateau of Beaurepaire just as the sun set on it.

　　Jacintha came into Dard's cottage that evening.

　　"So you have been at it, my man," cried she cheerfully and ratherroughly, then sat down and rocked herself, with her apron over herhead. She explained this anomalous proceeding to his grandmotherprivately. "I thought I would keep his heart up anyway, but you seeI was not fit."Next morning, as Riviere sat writing, he received an unexpectedvisit from Jacintha. She came in with her finger to her lips, andsaid, "You prowl about Dard's cottage. They are sure to go and seehim every day, and him wounded in their service.""Oh, you good girl! you dear girl!" cried Edouard.

　　She did not reply in words, but, after going to the door, returnedand gave him a great kiss without ceremony. "Dare say you know whatthat's for," said she, and went off with a clear conscience andreddish cheeks.

　　Dard's grandmother had a little house, a little land, a littlemoney, and a little cow. She could just maintain Dard and herself,and her resources enabled Dard to do so many little odd jobs forlove, yet keep his main organ tolerably filled.

　　"Go to bed, my little son, since you have got hashed," said she.--"Bed be hanged," cried he. "What good is bed? That's a silly oldcustom wants doing away with. It weakens you: it turns you intotrain oil: it is the doctor's friend, and the sick man's bane. Manya one dies through taking to bed, that could have kept his life ifhe had kept his feet like a man. If I had cut myself in two I wouldnot go to bed,--till I go to the bed with a spade in it. No! sit uplike Julius Caesar; and die as you lived, in your clothes: don'tstrip yourself: let the old women strip you; that is their delightlaying out a chap; that is the time they brighten up, the oldsorceresses." He concluded this amiable rhapsody, the latter partof which was levelled at a lugubrious weakness of his grandmother'sfor the superfluous embellishment of the dead, by telling her it wasbad enough to be tied by the foot like an ass, without settling downon his back like a cast sheep. "Give me the armchair. I'll sit init, and, if I have any friends, they will show it now: they willcome and tell me what is going on in the village, for I can't getout to see it and hear it, they must know that."Seated in state in his granny's easy-chair, the loss of which afterthirty years' use made her miserable, she couldn't tell why, leSieur Dard awaited his friends.

　　They did not come.

　　The rain did, and poured all the afternoon. Night succeeded, andsolitude. Dard boiled over with bitterness. "They are a lot ofpigs then, all those fellows I have drunk with at Bigot's andSimmet's. Down with all fair-weather friends."The next day the sun shone, the air was clear, and the sky blue.

　　"Ah! let us see now," cried Dard.

　　Alas! no fellow-drinkers, no fellow-smokers, came to console theirhurt fellow. And Dard, who had boiled with anger yesterday, was nowsad and despondent. "Down with egotists," he groaned.

　　About three in the afternoon came a tap at the door.

　　"Ah! at last," cried Dard: "come in!"The door was slowly opened, and two lovely faces appeared at thethreshold. The demoiselles De Beaurepaire wore a tender look ofinterest and pity when they caught sight of Dard, and on the oldwoman courtesying to them they courtesied to her and Dard. The nextmoment they were close to him, one a little to his right, the otherto his left, and two pair of sapphire eyes with the mild lustre ofsympathy playing down incessantly upon him. How was he? How had heslept? Was he in pain? Was he in much pain? tell the truth now.

　　Was there anything to eat or drink he could fancy? Jacintha shouldmake it and bring it, if it was within their means. A prince couldnot have had more solicitous attendants, nor a fairy king lovelierand less earthly ones.

　　He looked in heavy amazement from one to the other. Rose bent, andwas by some supple process on one knee, taking the measure of thewounded foot. When she first approached it he winced: but the nextmoment he smiled. He had never been touched like this--it wascontact and no contact--she treated his foot as the zephyr theviolets--she handled it as if it had been some sacred thing. By thehelp of his eye he could just know she was touching him. Presentlyshe informed him he was measured for a list shoe: and she would runhome for the materials. During her absence came a timid tap to thedoor; and Edouard Riviere entered. He was delighted to seeJosephine, and made sure Rose was not far off. It was Dard who letout that she was gone to Beaurepaire for some cloth to make him ashoe. This information set Edouard fidgeting on his chair. He sawsuch a chance as was not likely to occur again. He rose withfeigned nonchalance, and saying, "I leave you in good hands; angelvisitors are best enjoyed alone," slowly retired, with a deepobeisance. Once outside the door, dignity vanished in alacrity; heflew off into the park, and ran as hard as he could towards thechateau. He was within fifty yards of the little gate, when sureenough Rose emerged. They met; his heart beat violently.

　　"Mademoiselle," he faltered.

　　"Ah! it is Monsieur Riviere, I declare," said Rose, coolly; all overblushes though.

　　"Yes, mademoiselle, and I am so out of breath. MademoiselleJosephine awaits you at Dard's house.""She sent you for me?" inquired Rose, demurely.

　　"Not positively. But I could see I should please her by coming foryou; there is, I believe, a bull or so about.""A bull or two! don't talk in that reckless way about such things.

　　She has done well to send you; let us make haste.""But I am a little out of breath.""Oh, never mind that! I abhor bulls.""But, mademoiselle, we are not come to them yet, and the faster wego now the sooner we shall.""Yes; but I always like to get a disagreeable thing over as soon aspossible," said Rose, slyly.

　　"Ah," replied Edouard, mournfully, "in that case let us make haste."After a little spurt, mademoiselle relaxed the pace of her ownaccord, and even went slower than before. There was an awkwardsilence. Edouard eyed the park boundary, and thought, "Now what Ihave to say I must say before we get to you;" and being thusimpressed with the necessity of immediate action, he turned to lead.

　　Rose eyed him and the ground, alternately, from under her longlashes.

　　At last he began to color and flutter. She saw something wascoming, and all the woman donned defensive armor.

　　"Mademoiselle.""Monsieur.""Is it quite decided that your family refuse my acquaintance, myservices, which I still--forgive me--press on you? Ah! MademoiselleRose, am I never to have the happiness of--of--even speaking toyou?""It seems so," said Rose, ironically.

　　"Have you then decided against me too?""I?" asked Rose. "What have I to do with questions of etiquette? Iam only a child: so considered at least.""You a child--an angel like you?""Ask any of them, they will tell you I am a child; and it is to thatI owe this conversation, no doubt; if you did not look on me as achild, you would not take this liberty with me," said the young cat,scratching without a moment's notice.

　　"Mademoiselle, do not be angry. I was wrong.""Oh! never mind. Children are little creatures without reserve, andtreated accordingly, and to notice them is to honor them.""Adieu then, mademoiselle. Try to believe no one respects you morethan I do.""Yes, let us part, for there is Dard's house; and I begin to suspectthat Josephine never sent you.""I confess it.""There, he confesses it. I thought so all along; WHAT A DUPE I HAVEBEEN!""I will offend no more," said poor silly Edouard. "Adieu,mademoiselle. May you find friends as sincere as I am, and more toyour taste!""Heaven hear your prayers!" replied the malicious thing, casting upher eyes with a mock tragic air.

　　Edouard sighed; a chill conviction that she was both heartless andempty fell on him. He turned away without another word. She calledto him with a sudden airy cheerfulness that made him start. "Stay,monsieur, I forgot--I have a favor to ask you.""I wish I could believe that:" and his eyes brightened.

　　Rose stopped, and began to play with her parasol. "You seem," saidshe softly, "to be pretty generous in bestowing your acquaintance onstrangers. I should be glad if I might secure you for a dear friendof mine, Dr. Aubertin. He will not discredit my recommendation; andhe will not make so many difficulties as we do; shall I tell youwhy? Because he is really worth knowing. In short, believe me, itwill be a valuable acquaintance for you--and for him," added shewith all the grace of the De Beaurepaires.

　　Many a man, inferior in a general way to Edouard Riviere, would havemade a sensible reply to this. Such as, "Oh, any friend of yours,mademoiselle, must be welcome to me," or the like. But the proposalcaught Edouard on his foible, his vanity, to wit; and our foiblesare our manias. He was mortified to the heart's core. "She refusesto know me herself," thought he, "but she will use my love to makeme amuse that old man." His heart swelled against her injustice andingratitude, and his crushed vanity turned to strychnine.

　　"Mademoiselle," said he, bitterly and doggedly, but sadly, "were Iso happy as to have your esteem, my heart would overflow, not onlyon the doctor but on every honest person around. But if I must nothave the acquaintance I value more than life, suffer me to be alonein the world, and never to say a word either to Dr. Aubertin, or toany human creature if I can help it."The imperious young beauty drew herself up directly. "So be it,monsieur; you teach me how a child should be answered that forgetsherself, and asks a favor of a stranger--a perfect stranger," addedshe, maliciously.

　　Could one of the dog-days change to mid-winter in a second, it wouldhardly seem so cold and cross as Rose de Beaurepaire turned from thesmiling, saucy fairy of the moment before. Edouard felt as it werea portcullis of ice come down between her and him. She courtesiedand glided away. He bowed and stood frozen to the spot.

　　He felt so lonely and so bitter, he must go to Jacintha for comfort.

　　He took advantage of the ladies being with Dard, and marched boldlyinto the kitchen of Beaurepaire.

　　"Well, I never," cried Jacintha. "But, after all, why not?"He hurled himself on the kitchen table (clean as china), and toldher it was all over. "She hates me now; but it is not my fault,"and so poured forth his tale, and feeling sure of sympathy, askedJacintha whether it was not bitterly unjust of Rose to refuse himher own acquaintance, yet ask him to amuse that old fogy.

　　Jacintha stood with her great arms akimbo, taking it all in, andlooking at him with a droll expression of satirical wonder.

　　"Now you listen to a parable," said she. "Once there was a littleboy madly in love with raspberry jam.""A thing I hate.""Don't tell me! Who hates raspberry jam? He came to the storecloset, where he knew there were jars of it, and--oh! misery--thedoor was locked. He kicked the door, and wept bitterly. His mammacame and said, 'Here is the key,' and gave him the key. And whatdid he do? Why, he fell to crying and roaring, and kicking thedoor. 'I don't wa-wa-wa-wa-nt the key-ey-ey. I wa-a-ant the jam--oh! oh! oh! oh!'" and Jacintha mimicked, after her fashion, themingled grief and ire of infancy debarred its jam. Edouard wore apuzzled air, but it was only for a moment; the next he hid his facein his hands, and cried, "Fool!""I shall not contradict you," said his Mentor.

　　"She was my best friend. Once acquainted with the doctor, I couldvisit at Beaurepaire.""Parbleu!""She had thought of a way to reconcile my wishes with this terribleetiquette that reigns here.""She thinks to more purpose than you do; that is clear.""Nothing is left now but to ask her pardon, and to consent; I amoff.""No, you are not," and Jacintha laid a grasp of iron on him. "Willyou be quiet?--is not one blunder a day enough? If you go near hernow, she will affront you, and order the doctor not to speak to you.""O Jacintha! your sex then are fiends of malice?""While it lasts. Luckily with us nothing lasts very long. Now youdon't go near her till you have taken advantage of her hint, andmade the doctor's acquaintance; that is easy done. He walks twohours on the east road every day, with his feet in the puddles andhis head in the clouds. Them's HIS two tastes.""But how am I to get him out of the clouds and the puddles?"inquired Riviere half peevishly.

　　"How?" asked Jacintha, with a dash of that contempt uneducatedpersons generally have for any one who does not know some littlething they happen to know themselves. "How? Why, with the nearestblackbeetle, to be sure.""A blackbeetle?""Black or brown; it matters little. Have her ready for use in yourhandkerchief: pull a long face: and says you--'Excuse me, sir, Ihave THE MISFORTUNE not to know the Greek name of this merchandisehere.' Say that, and behold him launched. He will christen you thebeast in Hebrew and Latin as well as Greek, and tell you her historydown from the flood: next he will beg her of you, and out will comea cork and a pin, and behold the creature impaled. For that is howmen love beetles. He has a thousand pinned down at home--beetles,butterflies, and so forth. When I go near the rubbish with myduster he trembles like an aspen. I pretend to be going to cleanthem, but it is only to see the face he makes, for even a domesticmust laugh now and then--or die. But I never do clean them, forafter all he is more stupid than wicked, poor man: I have nottherefore the sad courage to make him wretched.""Let us return to our beetle--what will his tirades about itsantiquity advance me?""Oh! one begins about a beetle, but one ends Heaven knows where."Riviere profited by this advice. He even improved on it. In duecourse he threw himself into Aubertin's way. He stopped the doctorreverentially, and said he had heard he was an entomologist. WOULDhe be kind enough to tell him what was this enormous chrysalis hehad just found?

　　"The death's head moth!" cried Aubertin with enthusiasm--"thedeath's head moth! a great rarity in this district. Where found youthis?" Riviere undertook to show him the place.

　　It was half a league distant. Coming and going he had time to makefriends with Aubertin, and this was the easier that the oldgentleman, who was a physiognomist as well as ologist, had seengoodness and sensibility in Edouard's face. At the end of the walkhe begged the doctor to accept the chrysalis. The doctor coquetted.

　　"That would be a robbery. You take an interest in these thingsyourself--at least I hope so."The young rogue confessed modestly to the sentiment of entomology,but "the government worked him so hard as to leave him no hopes ofshining in so high a science," said he sorrowfully.

　　The doctor pitied him. "A young man of your attainments and tastesto be debarred from the everlasting secrets of nature, by thefleeting politics of the day."Riviere shrugged his shoulders. "Somebody must do the dirty work,"said he, chuckling inwardly.

　　The chrysalis went to Beaurepaire in the pocket of a grateful man,who that same evening told the whole party his conversation withyoung Riviere, on whom he pronounced high encomiums. Rose's saucyeyes sparkled with fun: you might have lighted a candle at one andexploded a mine at the other; but not a syllable did she utter.

　　The doctor proved a key, and opened the enchanted castle. One fineday he presented his friend in the Pleasaunce to the baroness andher daughters.

　　They received him with perfect politeness. Thus introduced, and ashe was not one to let the grass grow under his feet, he soonobtained a footing as friend of the family, which, being now advisedby Josephine, he took care not to compromise by making love to Rosebefore the baroness. However, he insisted on placing his financialtalent at their service. He surveyed and valued their lands, andsoon discovered that all their farms were grossly underlet. Luckilymost of the leases were run out. He prepared a new rent roll, andshowed it Aubertin, now his fast friend. Aubertin at his requestobtained a list of the mortgages, and Edouard drew a balance-sheetfounded on sure data, and proved to the baroness that in able handsthe said estate was now solvent.

　　This was a great comfort to the old lady: and she said to Aubertin,"Heaven has sent us a champion, a little republican--with the faceof an angel."Descending to practice, Edouard actually put three of the farms intothe market, and let them at an advance of twenty per cent on theexpired leases. He brought these leases signed; and the baronesshad scarcely done thanking him, when her other secret friend,Monsieur Perrin, was announced. Edouard exchanged civilities withhim, and then retired to the Pleasaunce. There he found bothsisters, who were all tenderness and gratitude to him. By this timehe had learned to value Josephine: she was so lovely and so good,and such a true womanly friend to him. Even Rose could not resisther influence, and was obliged to be kind to him, when Josephine wasby. But let Josephine go, and instead of her being more tender, asany other girl would, left alone with her lover, sauciness resumedits empire till sweet Josephine returned. Whereof cometh anexample; for the said Josephine was summoned to a final conferencewith the baroness and Monsieur Perrin.

　　"Don't be long," said Rose, as Josephine glided away, and (takingthe precaution to wait till she was quite out of hearing), "I shallbe so dull, dear, till you come back.""I shall not though," said Edouard.

　　"I am not so sure of that. Now then.""Now then, what?""Begin.""Begin what?""Amusing me." And she made herself look sullen and unamusable allover.

　　"I will try," said Riviere. "I'll tell you what they say of you:

　　that you are too young to love.""So I am, much.""No, no, no! I made a mistake. I mean too young to be loved.""Oh, I am not too young for that, not a bit."This point settled, she suggested that, if he could not amuse her,he had better do THE NEXT BEST THING, and that was, talk sense.

　　"I think I had better not talk at all," said he, "for I am no matchfor such a nimble tongue. And then you are so remorseless. I'llhold my tongue, and make a sketch of this magnificent oak.""Ay, do: draw it as it appeared on a late occasion: with two ladiesflying out of it, and you rooted with dismay.""There is no need; that scene is engraved.""Where? in all the shops?""No; on all our memories.""Not on mine; not on mine. How terrified you were--ha, ha! and howterrified we should have been if you had not. Listen: once upon atime--don't be alarmed: it was long after Noah--a frightened hareran by a pond; the frogs splashed in the water, smit with awe. Thenshe said, 'Ah ha! there are people in the world I frighten in myturn; I am the thunderbolt of war.' Excuse my quoting La Fontaine:

　　I am not in 'Charles the Twelfth of Sweden' yet. I am but a child.""And it's a great mercy, for when you grow up, you will be too muchfor me, that is evident. Come, then, Mademoiselle the Quizzer, comeand adorn my sketch.""Monsieur, shall I make you a confession? You will not be angry: Icould not support your displeasure. I have a strange inclination towalk up and down this terrace while you go and draw that tree in thePleasaunce.""Resist that inclination; perhaps it will fly from you.""No; you fly from me, and draw. I will rejoin you in a few minutes.""Thank you, I'm not so stupid. You will step indoors directly.""Do you doubt my word, sir?" asked she haughtily.

　　He had learned to obey all her caprices; so he went and placedhimself on the west side of the oak and took out his sketch-book,and worked zealously and rapidly. He had done the outlines of thetree and was finishing in detail a part of the huge trunk, when hiseyes were suddenly dazzled: in the middle of the rugged bark,deformed here and there with great wart-like bosses, and wrinkled,seamed, and ploughed all over with age, burst a bit of variegatedcolor; bright as a poppy on a dungeon wall, it glowed and glitteredout through a large hole in the brown bark; it was Rose's facepeeping. To our young lover's eye how divine it shone! None of thehalf tints of common flesh were there, but a thing all rose, lily,sapphire, and soul. His pencil dropped, his mouth opened, he wasdownright dazzled by the glowing, bewitching face, sparkling withfun, in the gaunt tree. Tell me, ladies, did she know, even at thatage, the value of that sombre frame to her brightness? The momentshe found herself detected, the gaunt old tree rang musical with acrystal laugh, and out came the arch-dryad. "I have been there allthe time. How solemn you looked! Now for the result of suchprofound study." He showed her his work; she altered her tone.

　　"Oh, how clever!" she cried, "and how rapid! What a facility youhave! Monsieur is an artist," said she gravely; "I will be morerespectful," and she dropped him a low courtesy. "Mind you promisedit me," she added sharply.

　　"You will accept it, then?""That I will, now it is worth having: dear me, I never reckoned onthat. Finish it directly," cried this peremptory young person.

　　"First I must trouble you to stand out there near the tree.""Me? what for?""Because art loves contrasts. The tree is a picture of age andgradual decay; by its side then I must place a personification ofyouth and growing loveliness."She did not answer, but made a sort of defiant pirouette, and wentwhere she was bid, and stood there with her back to the artist.

　　"That will never do," said he; "you really must be so good as toturn round.""Oh, very well." And when she came round, behold her color hadrisen mightily. Flattery is sweet.

　　This child of nature was delighted, and ashamed it should be seenthat she was.

　　And so he drew her, and kept looking off the paper at her, and had aright in his character of artist to look her full in the face; andhe did so with long lingering glances. To be sure, they all begansevere and businesslike with half-closed eyes, and the peculiarhostile expression art puts on; but then they always ended open-eyed, and so full and tender, that she, poor girl, who was all realgold, though sham brass, blushed and blushed, and did not know whichway to look not to be scorched up by his eye like a tender flower,or blandly absorbed like the pearly dew. Ah, happy hour! ah, happydays of youth and innocence and first love!

　　Trouble loves to intrude on these halcyon days.

　　The usually quiet Josephine came flying from the house, pale andagitated, and clung despairingly to Rose, and then fell to sobbingand lamenting piteously.

　　I shall take leave to relate in my own words what had just occurredto agitate her so. When she entered her mother's room, she foundthe baroness and Perrin the notary seated watching for her. She satdown after the usual civilities, and Perrin entered upon the subjectthat had brought him.

　　He began by confessing to them that he had not overcome therefractory creditor without much trouble; and that he had sincelearned there was another, a larger creditor, likely to press forpayment or for sale of the estate. The baroness was greatlytroubled by this communication: the notary remained cool as acucumber, and keenly observant. After a pause he went on to say allthis had caused him grave reflections. "It seems," said he withcool candor, "a sad pity the estate should pass from a family thathas held it since the days of Charlemagne.""Now God forbid!" cried the baroness, lifting her eyes and herquivering hands to heaven.

　　The notary held the republican creed in all its branches.

　　"Providence, madame, does not interfere--in matters of business,"said he. "Nothing but money can save the estate. Let us then bepractical. Has any means occurred to you of raising money to payoff these incumbrances?""No. What means can there be? The estate is mortgaged to its fullvalue: so they say, at least.""And they say true," put in the notary quickly. "But do notdistress yourself, madame: confide in me.""Ah, my good friend, may Heaven reward you.""Madame, up to the present time I have no complaint to make ofHeaven. I am on the rise: here, mademoiselle, is a gimcrack theyhave given me;" and he unbuttoned his overcoat, and showed them apiece of tricolored ribbon and a clasp. "As for me, I look to 'thesolid;' I care little for these things," said he, swelling visibly,"but the world is dazzled by them. However, I can show yousomething better." He took out a letter. "This is from theMinister of the Interior to a client of mine: a promise I shall bethe next prefect; and the present prefect--I am happy to say--is onhis death-bed. Thus, madame, your humble servant in a few shortmonths will be notary no longer, but prefect; I shall then sell myoffice of notary: and I flatter myself when I am a prefect you willnot blush to own me.""Then, as now, monsieur," said the baroness politely, "we shallrecognize your merit. But"--"I understand, madame: like me you look to 'the solid.' Thus thenit is; I have money.""Ah! all the better for you.""I have a good deal of money. But it is dispersed in a great manysmall but profitable investments: to call it in suddenly wouldentail some loss. Nevertheless, if you and my young lady there haveever so little of that friendly feeling towards me of which I haveso much towards you, all my investments shall be called in, and two-thirds of your creditors shall be paid off at once. A single clientof mine, no less a man than the Commandant Raynal, will, I am sure,advance me the remaining third at an hour's notice; and soBeaurepaire chateau, park, estate, and grounds, down to the old oak-tree, shall be saved; and no power shall alienate them from you,mademoiselle, and from the heirs of your body."The baroness clasped her hands in ecstasy.

　　"But what are we to do for this?" inquired Josephine calmly, "for itseems to me that it can only be effected by a sacrifice on yourpart.""I thank you, mademoiselle, for your penetration in seeing that Imust make sacrifices. I would never have told you, but you haveseen it; and I do not regret that you have seen it. Madame--mademoiselle--those sacrifices appear little to me; will seemnothing; will never be mentioned, or even alluded to after this day,if you, on your part, will lay me under a far heavier obligation, ifin short"--here the contemner of things unsubstantial reopened hiscoat, and brought his ribbon to light again--"if you, madame, willaccept me for your son-in-law--if you, mademoiselle, will take mefor your husband."The baroness and her daughter looked at one another in silence.

　　"Is it a jest?" inquired the former of the latter.

　　"Can you think so? Answer Monsieur Perrin. He has just done us akind office, mother.""I shall remember it. Monsieur, permit me to regret that havinglately won our gratitude and esteem, you have taken this way ofmodifying those feelings. But after all," she added with gentlecourtesy, "we may well put your good deeds against this--this errorin judgment. The balance is in your favor still, provided you neverreturn to this topic. Come, is it agreed?" The baroness's mannerwas full of tact, and the latter sentences were said with an openkindliness of manner. There was nothing to prevent Perrin fromdropping the subject, and remaining good friends. A gentleman or alover would have so done. Monsieur Perrin was neither. He saidbitterly, "You refuse me, then."The tone and the words were each singly too much for the baroness'spride. She answered coldly but civilly,--"I do not refuse you. I do not take an affront into consideration.""Be calm, mamma; no affront whatever was intended.""Ah! here is one that is more reasonable," cried Perrin.

　　"There are men," continued Josephine without noticing him, "who lookto but one thing--interest. It was an offer made politely in theway of business: decline it in the same spirit; that is what youhave to do.""Monsieur, you hear what mademoiselle says? She carries politenessa long way. After all it is a good fault. Well, monsieur, I neednot answer you, since Mademoiselle de Beaurepaire has answered you;but I detain you no longer."Strictly a weasel has no business with the temper of a tiger, butthis one had, and the long vindictiveness of a Corsican. "Ah! mylittle lady, you turn me out of the house, do you?" cried he,grinding his teeth.

　　"Turn him out of the house? what a phrase! where has this manlived?""A man!" snarled Perrin, "whom none ever yet insulted withoutrepenting it, and repenting in vain. You are under obligations tome, and you think to turn me out! You are at my mercy, and youthink I will let you turn me to your door! In less than a mouth Iwill stand here, and say to you, Beaurepaire is mine. Begone fromit!"When he uttered these terrible words, each of which was like asword-stroke to the baroness, the old lady, whose courage was notequal to her strength, shrank over the side of her arm-chair, andcried piteously--"He threatens me! he threatens me! I amfrightened;" and put up her trembling hands, for the notary'seloquence, being accompanied with abundance of gesture, borderedupon physical violence. His brutality received an unexpected check.

　　Imagine that a sparrow-hawk had seized a trembling pigeon, and thata royal falcon swooped, and with one lightning-like stroke of bodyand wing, buffeted him away, and sent him gaping and glaring andgrasping at pigeonless air with his claws. So swift and majestic,Josephine de Beaurepaire came from her chair with one gesture of herbody between her mother and the notary, who was advancing with armsfolded in a brutal, menacing way--not the Josephine we have seenher, the calm languid beauty, but the demoiselle de Beaurepaire--hergreat heart on fire--her blood up--not her own only, but all theblood of all the De Beaurepaires--pale as ashes with great wrath,her purple eyes on fire, and her whole panther-like body full ofspring. "Wretch! you dare to insult her, and before me! Arrieremiserable! or I soil my hand with your face." And her hand was upwith the word, up, up, higher it seemed than ever a hand was raisedbefore. And if he had hesitated one moment, I really believe itwould have come down; not heavily, perhaps--the lightning is notheavy. But there was no need. The towering threat and the flamingeye and the swift rush buffeted the caitiff away: he recoiled. Shefollowed him as he went, strong, FOR A MOMENT OR TWO, as Hercules,beautiful and terrible as Michael driving Satan. He dared not, orcould not stand before her: he writhed and cowered and recoiled alldown the room, while she marched upon him. But the driven serpenthissed horribly as it wriggled away.

　　"You shall both be turned out of Beaurepaire by me, and forever; Iswear it, parole de Perrin."He had not been gone a minute when Josephine's courage oozed away,and she ran, or rather tottered, into the Pleasaunce, and clung likea drowning thing to Rose, and, when Edouard took her hand, she clungto him. They had to gather what had happened how they could: theaccount was constantly interrupted with her sobs and self-reproaches. She said she had ruined all she loved: ruined hersister, ruined her mother, ruined the house of Beaurepaire. Why wasshe ever born? Why had she not died three years ago? (Query, whatwas the date at which Camille's letters suddenly stopped?) "Thatcoward," said she, "has the heart of a fiend. He told us he neverforgave an affront; and he holds our fate in his hands. He willdrive our mother from her home, and she will die: murdered by herown daughter. After all, why did I refuse him? What should I havesacrificed by marrying him? Rose, write to him, and say--say--I wastaken by surprise, I--I"--a violent flood of tears interrupted thesentence.

　　Rose flung her arms round her neck. "My beautiful Josephine marrythat creature? Let house and lands go a thousand times sooner. Ilove my sister a thousand times better than the walls of this or anyother house.""Come, come," cried Edouard, "you are forgetting ME all this time.

　　Do you really think I am the sort of man to stand by with my handsin my pockets, and let her marry that cur, or you be driven out ofBeaurepaire? Neither, while I live.""Alas! dear boy," sighed Josephine, "what can you do?""I'll soon show you. From this hour forth it is a duel between thatPerrin and me. Now, Josephine--Rose--don't you cry and fret likethat: but just look quietly on, and enjoy the fight, both of you."Josephine shook her head with a sad smile: but Rose deliveredherself thus, after a sob, "La, yes; I forgot: we have got agentleman now; that's one comfort."Edouard rose to the situation: he saw that Perrin would lose notime; and that every day, or even hour, might be precious. He toldthem that the first thing he must do for them was to leave thecompany he loved best on earth, and run down to the town to consultPicard the rival notary: he would be back by supper-time, when hehoped they would do him the honor, in a matter of such importance,to admit him to a family council.

　　Josephine assented with perfect simplicity; Rose with a deep blush,for she was too quick not to see all the consequences of admittingso brisk a wooer into a family council.

　　It was a wet evening, and a sad and silent party sat round a woodfire in the great dining-hall. The baroness was almost prostratedby the scene with Perrin; and a sombre melancholy and forebodingweighed on all their spirits, when presently Edouard Riviere enteredbriskly, and saluted them all profoundly, and opened the proceedingswith a little favorite pomposity. "Madame the baroness, and youMonsieur Aubertin, who honor me with your esteem, and youMademoiselle de Beaurepaire, whom I adore, and you MademoiselleRose, whom I hoped to be permitted--you have this day done me thehonor to admit me as your adviser. I am here to lay my plans beforeyou. I believe, madame, I have already convinced you that yourfarms are under-let, and your property lowered in value by generalmismanagement; this was doubtless known to Perrin, and set himscheming. Well, I rely on the same circumstance to defeat him. Ihave consulted Picard and shown him the rent-roll and balance-sheetI had already shown you. He has confessed that the estate is worthmore than its debts, so capitalists can safely advance the money.

　　To-morrow morning, then, I ride to Commandant Raynal for a week'sleave of absence; then, armed with Picard's certificate, shallproceed to my uncle and ask him to lend the money. His estate isvery small compared with Beaurepaire, but he has always farmed ithimself. 'I'll have no go-between,' says he, 'to impoverish bothself and soil.' He is also a bit of a misanthrope, and has made meone. I have a very poor opinion of my fellow-creatures, very.""Well, but," said Rose, "if he is all that, he will not sympathizewith us, who have so mismanaged Beaurepaire. Will he not despiseus?"Edouard was a little staggered, but Aubertin came to his aid.

　　"Permit me, Josephine," said he. "Natural history steps in here,and teaches by me, its mouth-piece. A misanthrope hates allmankind, but is kind to every individual, generally too kind. Aphilanthrope loves the whole human race, but dislikes his wife, hismother, his brother, and his friends and acquaintances. Misanthropeis the potato: rough and repulsive outside, but good to the core.

　　Philanthrope is a peach: his manner all velvet and bloom, his wordssweet juice, his heart of hearts a stone. Let me read Philanthrope'sbook, and fall into the hands of Misanthrope."Edouard admitted the shrewdness of this remark.

　　"And so," said he, "my misanthrope will say plenty of biting words,--which, by-the-by, will not hurt you, who will not hear them, onlyme,--and then he'll lend us the money, and Beaurepaire will be free,and I shall have had a hand in it. Hurrah!"Then came a delicious hour to Edouard Riviere. Young and old pouredout their glowing thanks and praises upon him till his checks burnedlike fire.

　　The baroness was especially grateful, and expressed a gentle regretthat she could see no way of showing her gratitude except in words.

　　"What can we do for this little angel?" said she, turning toJosephine.

　　"Leave that to me, mamma," replied Josephine, turning her lovelyeyes full on Edouard, with a look the baroness misunderstooddirectly.

　　She sat and watched Josephine and Edouard with comical severity allthe rest of the time she was there; and, when she retired, shekissed Rose affectionately, but whispered her eldest daughter, "Ihope you are not serious. A mere boy compared with you.""But such a sweet one," suggested Josephine, apologetically.

　　"What will the world come to?" said the baroness out loud, andretreated with a sour glance at all of them--except Rose.

　　She had not been gone five minutes when a letter came by messengerto Edouard. It was from Picard. He read it out.

　　"Perrin has been with me, to raise money. He wants it in forty-eight hours. Promises good legal security. I have agreed to tryand arrange the matter for him."They were all astonished at this.

　　"The double-faced traitor!" cried Edouard. "Stay; wait a minute.

　　Let us read it to an end.""This promise is, of course, merely to prevent his going elsewhere.

　　At the end of the forty-eight hours I shall begin to makedifficulties. Meantime, as Perrin is no fool, you had better profitto the full by this temporary delay.""Well done, Picard!" shouted Edouard. "Notary cut notary. I won'tlose an hour. I'll start at five; Commandant Raynal is an earlyriser himself."Accordingly, at five he was on the road; Raynal's quarters lay inthe direct line to his uncle's place. He found the commandant athome, and was well received. Raynal had observed his zeal, andliked his manners. He gave him the week's leave, and kept him tobreakfast, and had his horse well fed. At eight o'clock Edouardrode out of the premises in high spirits. At the very gate he met agaunt figure riding in on a squab pony. It was Perrin the notarycoming in hot haste to his friend and employer, Commandant Raynal.