out for her that she might sit and watch the painter. Soon she began to
talk to him, asking him about the marriages and births and deaths of
which she had not yet heard, and adding these fresh details to the
genealogical trees which she already knew by heart. Beside her, astride
a chair, sat Julien, smoking a pipe and occasionally spitting on the
ground as he watched the growth of the colored certificate of his
nobility. Soon old Simon on his way to the kitchen garden stopped, with
his spade on his shoulder, to look at the painting, and the news of
Bataille's arrival having reached the two farms the farmers' wives came
hurrying up also. Standing on either side of the baroness, they went
into ecstasies over the drawing and kept repeating: "He must be clever
to paint like that."

The shields on both carriage-doors were finished the next morning about
eleven o'clock. Everyone came to look at the work now it was done, and
the carriage was drawn out of the coach-house that they might the better
judge of the effect. The design was pronounced perfect, and Bataille
received a great many compliments before he strapped his box on his back
and went off again; the baron, his wife, Jeanne and Julien all agreed
that the painter was a man of great talent, and would, no doubt, have
become an artist, if circumstances had permitted.

For the sake of economy, Julien had accomplished some reforms which
brought with them the need of fresh arrangements. The old coachman now
performed the duties of gardener, the vicomte himself undertaking to
drive, and as he was obliged to have someone to hold the horses when the
family went to make a visit, he had made a groom of a young cowherd
named Marius. The horses had been sold to do away with the expense of
their keep, so he had introduced a clause in Couillard's and Martin's
leases by which the two farmers bound themselves to each provide a horse
once a month, on whatever day the vicomte chose.

When the day came the Couillards produced a big, raw-boned, yellowish
horse, and the Martins a little, white, long-haired nag; the two horses
were harnessed, and Marius, buried in an old livery of Simon's, brought
the carriage round to the door. Julien, who was in his best clothes,
would have looked a little like his old, elegant self, if his long beard
had not made him look common. He inspected the horses, the carriage, and
the little groom, and thought they looked very well, the only thing of
any impor