the fancy of a lonely hour.

I daresay something of this showed in my face; for Madame's eyes
mirrored a dim reflection of trouble as she looked at me, and
Mademoiselle talked nervously and at random. At any rate, I fancied so,
and I hastened to compose myself; and the two, in pressing upon me the
simple dainties of the table soon forgot, or appeared to forget, the
incident.

Yet in spite of this CONTRETEMPS, that first meal had a strange charm
for me. The round table whereat we dined was spread inside the open door
which led to the garden, so that the October sunshine fell full on the
spotless linen and quaint old plate, and the fresh balmy air filled the
room with the scent of sweet herbs. Louis served us with the mien of a
major-domo, and set on each dish as though it had been a peacock or a
mess of ortolans. The woods provided the larger portion of our meal; the
garden did its part; the confections Mademoiselle had cooked with her
own hand.

By-and-by, as the meal went on, as Louis trod to and fro across the
polished floor, and the last insects of summer hummed sleepily
outside, and the two gracious faces continued to smile at me out of the
gloom--for the ladies sat with their backs to the door--I began to
dream again, I began to sink again into folly, that was half-pleasure,
half-pain. The fury of the gaming-house and the riot of Zaton's seemed
far away. The triumphs of the fencing-room--even they grew cheap and
tawdry. I thought of existence as one outside it, I balanced this
against that, and wondered whether, after all, the red soutane were so
much better than the homely jerkin, or the fame of a day than ease and
safety.

And life at Cocheforet was all after the pattern of this dinner. Each
day, I might almost say each meal, gave rise to the same sequence
of thoughts. In Clon's presence, or when some word of Madame's,
unconsciously harsh, reminded me of the distance between us, I was
myself. At other times, in face of this peaceful and intimate life,
which was only rendered possible by the remoteness of the place and
the peculiar circumstances in which the ladies stood, I felt a strange
weakness, The loneliness of the woods that encircled the house, and
only here and there afforded a distant glimpse of snow-clad peaks; the
absence of any link to bind me to the old life, so that at intervals it
seemed unreal; the remoteness of the great world, all tended to sap my
will and weaken the purpose which had broug