im. When he left home to live in Paris I was a child,
and I did not see any difference between him and--all of you--except
perhaps that I loved you, and never thought of loving any one else.
Monsieur Savinien came by the mail-post the night before his mother's
fete-day; but we did not know it. At seven the next morning, after I
had said my prayers, I opened the window to air my room and I saw the
windows in Monsieur Savinien's room open; and Monsieur Savinien was
there, in a dressing gown, arranging his beard; in all his movements
there was such grace--I mean, he seemed to me so charming. He combed
his black moustache and the little tuft on his chin, and I saw his white
throat--so round!--must I tell you all? I noticed that his throat and
face and that beautiful black hair were all so different from yours when
I watch you arranging your beard. There came--I don't know how--a
sort of glow into my heart, and up into my throat, my head; it came so
violently that I sat down--I couldn't stand, I trembled so. But I longed
to see him again, and presently I got up; he saw me then, and, just for
play, he sent me a kiss from the tips of his fingers and--"

"And?"

"And then," she continued, "I hid myself--I was ashamed, but happy--why
should I be ashamed of being happy? That feeling--it dazzled my soul and
gave it some power, but I don't know what--it came again each time I saw
within me the same young face. I loved this feeling, violent as it
was. Going to mass, some unconquerable power made me look at Monsieur
Savinien with his mother on his arm; his walk, his clothes, even the tap
of his boots on the pavement, seemed to me so charming. The least little
thing about him--his hand with the delicate glove--acted like a spell
upon me; and yet I had strength enough not to think of him during
mass. When the service was over I stayed in the church to let Madame de
Portenduere go first, and then I walked behind him. I couldn't tell you
how these little things excited me. When I reached home, I turned round
to fasten the iron gate--"

"Where was La Bougival?" asked the doctor.

"Oh, I let her go to the kitchen," said Ursula simply. "Then I saw
Monsieur Savinien standing quite still and looking at me. Oh! godfather,
I was so proud, for I thought I saw a look in his eyes of surprise and
admiration--I don't know what I would not do to make him look at me
again like that. It seemed to me I ought to think of nothing forevermore
but pleas