s, well knows how to take care of you.'"

While this conversation had been going on, the young farmer's wife
stood at some distance, consumed with jealousy and anger.

"Well, well," she said to herself, "there is no saying what will happen
in this life. That miserable beggar whom I turned out of my house--look
at her now, dressed like a young lady of high rank. Who would have
thought of such a thing! Every one, however, knows who she is, so she
cannot impose on any one in this town. They know that yesterday she was
sent from here with a little package under her arm, to go into the
country."

The Count had not heard this abusive language, but a glance at the
woman's face was enough to show him that she was nursing angry
passions. "She is a wicked creature," he said to himself, as he walked
round the garden in a very thoughtful mood.

At last he stopped before the old farmer. "Listen, my good old friend,"
said he, "while I make a proposition to you. I have given Mary a piece
of ground on my estate, which was rented and cultivated by her father.
But Mary is not ready to take up housekeeping. What should prevent you
from retiring there? It will suit you, I am certain, and the owner will
not exact any rent from you. You can cultivate the herbs and flowers in
which you find your pleasure, and you will find, in the pretty cottage
which is attached to the ground, rest and peace in your old age."

The Count's wife, Amelia and Mary joined in urging the old man to
accept this generous offer. But there was no need for persuasion. The
old people were happy to be taken from their uncomfortable
surroundings, and gladly agreed to the proposal.

At this moment the young farmer came home from the fields. His surprise
was as great as his wife's when he saw the carriage at his door drawn
by four white horses; for never in the history of the farm had a
carriage stopped there before. When he heard of the proposal which the
Count had made to his father and mother, he gladly consented to it,
although he was deeply grieved to part from his old parents. His
consolation was found, however, in thinking that they were going to be
happier than they could possibly be with his wife.

As for his wife herself, the only remark she made was to say in a
spiteful way to the Count--

"It is a great favour you are doing us in ridding us of two old people
who are nothing but a burden!"

Promising to send for the old farmer and his wife as soon as eve