he
friendship thus so suddenly established--a rather dangerous and difficult
topic, when the parties are both young--one eminently handsome, and the
other disposed to be most agreeable. Oh, my dear young friends of either
sex, whatever your feelings be for one another, keep them to yourselves;
I know of nothing half so hazardous as that "comparing of notes" which
sometimes happens. Analysis is a beautiful thing in mathematics or
chemistry, but it makes sad havoc when applied to the "functions of the
heart."

"Mamma appears to have forgotten us," said Isabella, as she spoke, after
walking for some time in silence beside me.

"Oh, depend upon it, the carriage has taken all this time to repair; but
are you tired?"

"Oh, by no means; the evening is delightful, but--"

"Then perhaps you are ennuyee," said I, half pettishly, to provoke a
disclaimer if possible. To this insidiously put quere I received, as I
deserved, no answer, and again we sauntered on without speaking.

"To whom does that chateau belong, my old friend?" said I addressing a
man on the road-side.

"A Monsieur le Marquis, sir," replied he.

"But what's his name, though?"

"Ah, that I can't tell you," replied the man again.

There you may perceive how, even yet, in provincial France, the old
respect for the aristocracy still survives; it is sufficient that the
possessor of that fine place is "Monsieur le Marquis;" but any other
knowledge of who he is, and what, is superfluous. "How far are we from
the next village, do you know?"

"About a league."

"Indeed. Why I thought 'La Scarpe' was quite near us."

"Ah, you are thinking of the Amiens road."

"Yes, of course; and is not this the Amiens road?"

"Oh, no; the Amiens road lies beyond those low hills to the right. You
passed the turn at the first 'barriere'."

"Is it possible we could have come wrong?"

"Oh, Mr. Lorrequer, don't say so, I entreat of you."

"And what road is this, then, my friend?"

"This is the road to Albert and Peronne."

"Unfortunately, I believe he is quite right. Is there any crossroad from
the village before us now, to the Amiens road?"

"Yes; you can reach it about three leagues hence."

"And we can get a carriage at the inn probably?"

"Ah, that I am not sure of--. Perhaps at the Lion d'or you may."

"But why not go back to Abbeville?"

"Oh, Mrs. Bingham must have left long since, and beside you forget the
distance; we have been walking two hours."