ardent
eyes, indifferent to the wind that tossed her dark hair, she dreamed
those dreams in which girls delight. She had moods of motiveless
irritation, and of unreasonable indulgence. One day a village boy threw
a stone at her horse. She pursued him with uplifted whip. Suddenly he
turned, and folding his arms, defied her. She laughed aloud, and tossed
him her purse.

Another time she was told that a fire had destroyed a village. She
hardly seemed to hear. It was winter. In the middle of the night she
arose and saddled her horse with her own hands, and rode off to the
sufferers, working over them for hours.

She was not liked--none could tell why. Suddenly she learned, after a
visit made by the Notary to her sick mother, that she was to marry the
Vicomte Talizac. She cared nothing about it one way or the other. If her
mother's heart was set upon it she was perfectly willing. The only thing
she disliked in the plan was that she must leave her beautiful
mountains. She had never been attracted by Paris, the streets and the
people frightened her, but she was consoled by the thought that it would
be a new world to conquer. On her return to the chateau, the daring
words uttered by Fanfar dwelt in her memory: "Make yourself beloved."
She had entered the booth where the exhibition had taken place, in a
moment of idle curiosity, and was surprised at the impression made on
her by the place and the people. She was greatly irritated withal. This
mountebank, this rope-dancer, had taken a great deal upon himself,
certainly. Why had she not answered him as he deserved? What did he
mean--"Make yourself beloved"--as if she were not already beloved! She
remembered the eyes which the peasants riveted on her. Could it be that
they did not love her? And now she was seated on a wooden bench, Madame
Ursula, who had at last arrived, on one side, and on the other a pretty
but dirty child, who was playing with the fringe of her dress.

Meanwhile the entertainment was going on. Gudel gave more than he
promised in his handbill. Before the curtain went up, he called together
the members of his troupe, and encouraged them to do their best. La
Roulante went up to him, and to his great amazement said a few
conciliatory words. As Gudel was by no means ill-natured, he shook
hands with her. The giantess turned her face toward Robeccal and winked
at him.

Poor Gudel was very happy in this reconciliation. After all, things
would go smoothly if he once