tress, of course," replied Julien, sarcastically, "from
what you said to me, there is no scarcity here of girls inclined to be
good-natured, and you have only the trouble of choosing among them. I
supposed you were courting some woodman's young daughter, or some pretty
farmer girl, like--like Reine Vincart."

"Refine Vincart!" repeated Claudet, sternly, "what business have you
to mix up her name with those creatures to whom you refer? Mademoiselle
Vincart," added he, "has nothing in common with that class, and you have
no right, Monsieur de Buxieres, to use her name so lightly!"

The allusion to Reine Vincart had agitated Claudet to such a degree that
he did not notice that Julien, as he pronounced her name, was as much
moved as himself.

The vehemence with which Claudet resented the insinuation increased
young de Buxieres's irritation.

"Ha, ha!" said he, laughing scornfully, "Reine Vincart is an exceedingly
pretty girl!"

"She is not only pretty, she is good and virtuous, and deserves to be
respected."

"How you uphold her! One can see that you are interested in her."

"I uphold her because you are unjust toward her. But I wish you to
understand that she has no need of any one standing up for her--her good
name is sufficient to protect her. Ask any one in the village--there is
but one voice on that question."

"Come," said Julien, huskily, "confess that you are in love with her."

"Well! suppose I am," said Claudet, angrily, "yes, I love her! There,
are you satisfied now?"

Although de Buxieres knew what he had to expect, he was not the less
affected by so open an avowal thrust at him, as it were. He stood for a
moment, silent; then, with a fresh burst of rage:

"You love her, do you? Why did you not tell me before? Why were you not
more frank with me?"

As he spoke, gesticulating furiously, in front of the open window, the
deep red glow of the setting sun, piercing through the boughs of the
ash-trees, threw its bright reflections on his blazing eyeballs and
convulsed features. His interlocutor, leaning against the opposite
corner of the window-frame, noticed, with some anxiety, the extreme
agitation of his behavior, and wondered what could be the cause of such
emotion.

"I? Not frank with you! Ah, that is a good joke, Monsieur de Buxieres!
Naturally, I should not go proclaiming on the housetops that I have a
tender feeling for Mademoiselle Vincart, but, all the same, I should
have told you had you as