-days, is more than I
can tell; for he never had been fond of his book. We could hear him
playing on the piano out of his own head for hours together, and then
he used to take long rides into the woods, and it was fine to see him
come home, riding in a cloud of smoke from the nostrils of his snorting
horse, his beard all tinkling with icicles, and his grand proud face
colored by the frosty air. He had always been a handsome man, and if
his hair was getting a trifle thinner and more grey, his eyes looked
all the darker and more fiery. He must have found a sweetheart in this
neighbourhood, I thought, but we heard nothing; not even in this dull
place, where we could hear the leaf fall; market-women and butter-women
took care of that. Visits or invitations there were none. I used to
shake my head, and Mr. Pierre, who had been used to a gayer life, shook
his. He had never dreamed that the count would hold out so long as
Christmas.

"'Mamsell Flor,' he said; 'il y a du mystere, as sure as my name is
Pierre!' and he would whistle the Marseillaise and wink; but in fact,
the rogue knew nothing. To pass the time, he took it into his head to
make love to Mamsell Gabrielle, but he soon let that alone. For modest
as she was, yet she had a way of throwing back her head at times, you
would have thought she was a duchess, and he found out that it was none
of his Paris sewing women he had to deal with. Something French he must
have, and so he took to the Bordeaux wine in our cellars, and often he
was so drunk that he could not wait at table. But his master never said
a word to him. The count was more gentle than he used to be; he never
said an angry word, and at Christmas he made each of us a present. With
the new year he took to dining downstairs in the hall, and of an
evening he came early, and sat reading the newspapers all alone, at the
master's table. But he did not like us to be silent; on the contrary,
after supper, he made us stay and sing. The second forester had a fine
bass voice, and Mamselle Gabrielle could sing like the very wood witch
herself. We often sat up till past eleven, and it sounded, beautifully
in the echo of the great hall. Many a time I saw the count drop the
paper, and listen pensively, with his head leaning on his hand. But I
always kept thinking of my own dear young count, and what a weary time
he had been away; and I used to talk of him to Mamselle Gabrielle, till
she sometimes fell asleep;--which made me c