nterview to an end.

"You must not keep Maitre Joubard now," he said. "It is late, and he
must get back to the farm. Bonsoir, Joubard."

The farmer waved his large hat. "Bonsoir, la compagnie!" and with a
smile departed.

As he passed the stables, Tobie, still carrying his gun, slipped out and
joined him.

"Anything wrong with the master, Tobie?" said the old man, curiously.
"His tongue has an edge to it this evening; he is not like himself."

"I think I know," said Tobie, and they strolled together up the lane.

"Go to bed, my child," said Monsieur Joseph to his little daughter. "It
is too damp now for you to be out-of-doors. Yes, very pretty feathers.
Good night, mon petit chou!"

Riette flung herself upon him and hugged him like a young bear.

"Ah," he exclaimed, as soon as he could speak, "and is this the way to
behave to one's respected father? Do you suppose, now, that
Mesdemoiselles de Sainfoy crush their parents to death like this?"

"I dare say not," said Riette, with another hug and a shower of kisses.
"But their parents are grand people. They have not a little bijou of a
papa like mine. And as for their mamma, she is a cardboard sort of
woman."

"All that does not matter. Manners should be the same, whether people
are tall or short, great or humble. You know nothing about it, my poor
Riette."

"Nor do you!"

"It is becoming plain to me that you must be sent to learn manners."

"Where?"

"Go to bed at once. I must think about it. There, child--enough--I am
tired this evening."

"Ah, you have had so many visitors to-day, and that old Joubard is a
chatterbox."

"And he is not the only one in the world. Go--do you hear me?"

The child went. He heard her light feet scampering upstairs, clattering
merrily about on the boards overhead. He sat very still. The glow in the
east deepened, spreading a lurid glory over the dark velvety stillness
of the woods. Crickets sang and curlews cried in the meadow, and the
long ghostly hoot of an owl trembled through the motionless air. Joseph
de la Mariniere leaned his elbows on the table, his chin resting on his
hands, and gazed up thus into the wild autumnal sky.

"What would become of her!" he said to himself.

He was not long alone. Angelot and his dog came lightly up through the
shadows, and while the dog strayed off to join his favourites among the
dark guards who lay round the house, the young man sat down beside his
uncle.

Though with a mind ful