wharf at the tail of his garden, and had a long look
at the running water. This he called prayer; but whether his adorations
were addressed to the goddess Hygieia or some more orthodox deity, never
plainly appeared. For he had uttered doubtful oracles, sometimes
declaring that a river was the type of bodily health, sometimes extolling
it as the great moral preacher, continually preaching peace, continuity,
and diligence to man's tormented spirits. After he had watched a mile or
so of the clear water running by before his eyes, seen a fish or two come
to the surface with a gleam of silver, and sufficiently admired the long
shadows of the trees falling half across the river from the opposite
bank, with patches of moving sunlight in between, he strolled once more
up the garden and through his house into the street, feeling cool and
renovated.

The sound of his feet upon the causeway began the business of the day;
for the village was still sound asleep. The church tower looked very
airy in the sunlight; a few birds that turned about it, seemed to swim in
an atmosphere of more than usual rarity; and the Doctor, walking in long
transparent shadows, filled his lungs amply, and proclaimed himself well
contented with the morning.

On one of the posts before Tentaillon's carriage entry he espied a little
dark figure perched in a meditative attitude, and immediately recognised
Jean-Marie.

'Aha!' he said, stopping before him humorously, with a hand on either
knee. 'So we rise early in the morning, do we? It appears to me that we
have all the vices of a philosopher.'

The boy got to his feet and made a grave salutation.

'And how is our patient?' asked Desprez.

It appeared the patient was about the same.

'And why do you rise early in the morning?' he pursued.

Jean-Marie, after a long silence, professed that he hardly knew.

'You hardly know?' repeated Desprez. 'We hardly know anything, my man,
until we try to learn. Interrogate your consciousness. Come, push me
this inquiry home. Do you like it?'

'Yes,' said the boy slowly; 'yes, I like it.'

'And why do you like it?' continued the Doctor. '(We are now pursuing
the Socratic method.) Why do you like it?'

'It is quiet,' answered Jean-Marie; 'and I have nothing to do; and then I
feel as if I were good.'

Doctor Desprez took a seat on the post at the opposite side. He was
beginning to take an interest in the talk, for the boy plainly thought
before he