beds for her guests--then the supper
went on silently. As soon as they had swallowed their last mouthful, the
menservants repaired to their dormitory, situated in the buildings of
the ancient forge. Reine Vincart rose also.

"This is the time when I put my father to bed--I am obliged to take
leave of you, Monsieur de Buxieres. Guitiote will conduct you to your
room. For you, driver, I have had a bed made in a small room next to the
furnace; you will be nice and warm. Good-night, gentlemen, sleep well!"

She turned away, and went to rejoin the paralytic sufferer, who, as she
approached, manifested his joy by a succession of inarticulate sounds.

The room to which Guitiote conducted Julien was on the first floor, and
had a cheerful, hospitable appearance. The walls were whitewashed;
the chairs, table, and bed were of polished oak; a good fire of
logs crackled in the fireplace, and between the opening of the white
window-curtains could be seen a slender silver crescent of moon gliding
among the flitting clouds. The young man went at once to his bed; but
notwithstanding the fatigues of the day, sleep did not come to him.
Through the partition he could hear the clear, sonorous voice of Reine
singing her father to sleep with one of the popular ballads of the
country, and while turning and twisting in the homespun linen sheets,
scented with orrisroot, he could not help thinking of this young girl,
so original in her ways, whose grace, energy, and frankness fascinated
and shocked him at the same time. At last he dozed off; and when the
morning stir awoke him, the sun was up and struggling through the foggy
atmosphere.

The sky had cleared during the night; there had been a frost, and the
meadows were powdered white. The leaves, just nipped with the frost,
were dropping softly to the ground, and formed little green heaps at the
base of the trees. Julien dressed himself hurriedly, and descended to
the courtyard, where the first thing he saw was the cabriolet, which had
been brought in the early morning and which one of the farm-boys was in
the act of sousing with water in the hope of freeing the hood and wheels
from the thick mud which covered them. When he entered the diningroom,
brightened by the rosy rays of the morning sun, he found Reine Vincart
there before him. She was dressed in a yellow striped woolen skirt,
and a jacket of white flannel carelessly belted at the waist. Her dark
chestnut hair, parted down the middle a