itual side. But the woman who is firmest in words
is often the feeblest in action. It is strange that Calyste, having seen
the progress his suit had made by pushing Beatrix into the sea, did not
continue to urge it violently. But love in young men is so ecstatic and
religious that their inmost desire is to win its fruition through moral
conviction. In that is the sublimity of their love.

Nevertheless the day came when the Breton, driven to desperation,
complained to Camille of Beatrix's conduct.

"I meant to cure you by making you quickly understand her," replied
Mademoiselle des Touches; "but you have spoiled all. Ten days ago you
were her master; to-day, my poor boy, you are her slave. You will never
have the strength now to do as I advise."

"What ought I to do?"

"Quarrel with her on the ground of her hardness. A woman is always
over-excited when she discusses; let her be angry and ill-treat you, and
then stay away; do not return to Les Touches till she herself recalls
you."

In all extreme illness there is a moment when the patient is willing to
accept the cruellest remedy and submits to the most horrible operation.
Calyste had reached that point. He listened to Camille's advice and
stayed at home two whole days; but on the third he was scratching
at Beatrix's door to let her know that he and Camille were waiting
breakfast for her.

"Another chance lost!" Camille said to him when she saw him re-appear so
weakly.

During his two days' absence, Beatrix had frequently looked through the
window which opens on the road to Guerande. When Camille found her doing
so, she talked of the effect produced by the gorse along the roadway,
the golden blooms of which were dazzling in the September sunshine.

The marquise kept Camille and Calyste waiting long for breakfast; and
the delay would have been significant to any eyes but those of Calyste,
for when she did appear, her dress showed an evident intention to
fascinate him and prevent another absence. After breakfast she went
to walk with him in the garden and filled his simple heart with joy
by expressing a wish to go again to that rock where she had so nearly
perished.

"Will you go with me alone?" asked Calyste, in a troubled voice.

"If I refused to do so," she replied, "I should give you reason to
suppose I thought you dangerous. Alas! as I have told you again and
again I belong to another, and I must be his only; I chose him knowing
nothing of love. The fault