to me the fatal idea of my own beauty! I felt that I
disposed of an exceptional power; that I was a sacred object that could
not be given away for a vulgar trifle, and which could only be the
reward--how can I say?--of a great deed or of a crime!"

Lucan remained for a moment astonished at the audacious naivete of that
language. He thought best, however, to laugh at it.

"But, my dear Julia," he said, "take care; you mistake the age. We are no
longer in the days when nations went to war for the sake of a woman's
pretty eyes. However, speak about it to Pierre; he has everything required
to furnish the great action you want. As to the crime, I think you had
better give it up."

"Do you think so?" said Julia. "What a pity!" she added, bursting out into
a hearty laugh. "You see, I tell you all the nonsense that comes in my
head. That's amiable enough, I hope, is it not?"

"It is certainly extremely amiable," said Lucan. "Keep on."

"With such precious encouragement, sir!" she said, rising and finishing
her sentence with a courtesy; "but for the present, let us go to
breakfast. I recommend my bouquet to your attention. Hold the head down.
Walk ahead, sir, and by the shortest road, if you please, for I have an
appetite that is bringing tears to my eyes."

Lucan took the path that led most directly to the chateau. She followed
him with nimble step, at times humming a cavatina, at others addressing
him fresh instructions as to the manner of holding her bouquet, or
touching him lightly with the end of her cane, to make him admire some
birds perched upon a branch.

Clotilde and Monsieur de Moras were waiting for them, seated upon a bench
outside the gate of the chateau. The anxiety depicted upon their
countenances vanished at the sound of Julia's laughing voice.

As soon as she saw them, she snatched the bouquet from Lucan's hands, ran
toward Clotilde, and throwing on her lap her fragrant harvest:

"Mother," she said, "we have had a delightful walk--I had a great deal of
fun; Monsieur de Lucan also, and what's more, he has improved very much by
my conversation, I opened up new horizons to him!"

She described with her hand a great curve in the air, to indicate the
immensity of the horizons she had opened up to Monsieur de Lucan. Then,
drawing her mother toward the dining-room, and snuffing the air with
apparent relish:

"Oh! that kitchen of my mother's!" she said. "What an aroma!"

This charming humor, which was a s