say that she looked at the blue waves. I related
Phanion's history to Monsieur Le Menil, and he was very glad to hear it.
She had received from some hunter a little hare with long ears. She held
it on her knees and fed it on spring flowers. It loved Phanion and forgot
its mother. It died before having eaten too many flowers. Phanion
lamented over its loss. She buried it in the lemon-grove, in a grave
which she could see from her bed. And the shade of the little hare was
consoled by the songs of the poets."

The good Madame Marmet said that M. Le Menil pleased by his elegant and
discreet manners, which young men no longer practise. She would have
liked to see him. She wanted him to do something for her.

"Or, rather, for my nephew," she said. "He is a captain in the artillery,
and his chiefs like him. His colonel was for a long time under orders of
Monsieur Le Menil's uncle, General La Briche. If Monsieur Le Menil would
ask his uncle to write to Colonel Faure in favor of my nephew I should be
grateful to him. My nephew is not a stranger to Monsieur Le Menil. They
met last year at the masked ball which Captain de Lassay gave at the
hotel at Caen."

Madame Marmet cast down her eyes and added:

"The invited guests, naturally, were not society women. But it is said
some of them were very pretty. They came from Paris. My nephew, who gave
these details to me, was dressed as a coachman. Monsieur Le Menil was
dressed as a Hussar of Death, and he had much success."

Miss Bell said that she was sorry not to have known that M. Le Menil was
in Florence. Certainly, she should have invited him to come to Fiesole.

Dechartre remained sombre and distant during the rest of the dinner: and
when, at the moment of leaving, Therese extended her hand to him, she
felt that he avoided pressing it in his.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

A woman is frank when she does not lie uselessly
Disappointed her to escape the danger she had feared
Does not wish one to treat it with either timidity or brutality
He knew now the divine malady of love
I do not desire your friendship
I have known things which I know no more
I wished to spoil our past
Impatient at praise which was not destined for himself
Incapable of conceiving that one might talk without an object
Jealous without having the right to be jealous
Lovers never separate kindly
Magnificent air of those beggars of whom small tow