rned with the red rosette. This head, so firmly characterized, the
cold whiteness of which was softened by the yellowing tones of old age,
happened to be, just then, in the full light of a window. As Madame
Minoret came in sight of him the doctor's blue eyes with their reddened
lids were raised to heaven; a new conviction had given them a new
expression. His spectacles lay in his prayer-book and marked the place
where he had ceased to pray. The tall and spare old man, his arms
crossed on his breast, stood erect in an attitude which bespoke the full
strength of his faculties and the unshakable assurance of his faith.
He gazed at the altar humbly with a look of renewed hope, and took no
notice of his nephew's wife, who planted herself almost in front of him
as if to reproach him for coming back to God.

Zelie, seeing all eyes turned upon her, made haste to leave the church
and returned to the square less hurriedly than she had left it. She
had reckoned on the doctor's money, and possession was becoming
problematical. She found the clerk of the court, the collector, and
their wives in greater consternation than ever. Goupil was taking
pleasure in tormenting them.

"It is not in the public square and before the whole town that we
ought to talk of our affairs," said Zelie; "come home with me. You too,
Monsieur Dionis," she added to the notary; "you'll not be in the way."

Thus the probable disinheritance of Massin, Cremiere, and the post
master was the news of the day.

Just as the heirs and the notary were crossing the square to go to the
post house the noise of the diligence rattling up to the office, which
was only a few steps from the church, at the top of the Grand'Rue, made
its usual racket.

"Goodness! I'm like you, Minoret; I forgot all about Desire," said
Zelie. "Let us go and see him get down. He is almost a lawyer; and his
interests are mixed up in this matter."

The arrival of the diligence is always an amusement, but when it comes
in late some unusual event is expected. The crowd now moved towards the
"Ducler."

"Here's Desire!" was the general cry.

The tyrant, and yet the life and soul of Nemours, Desire always put the
town in a ferment when he came. Loved by the young men, with whom he was
invariably generous, he stimulated them by his very presence. But his
methods of amusement were so dreaded by older persons that more than one
family was very thankful to have him complete his studies and study
la