r birds' nests. The dress now worn by Montlouis had at
first prevented Norbert from recognizing him, for he was attired in
the uniform of the college at which his father had placed him, being
desirous of making something more than a mere farmer of his son.

"What are you doing here?" asked Norbert.

"I am waiting for my father."

"So am I. Let us have a cup of coffee together."

Montlouis led his playmate into a small wine shop near at hand. He
seemed a little disposed to presume upon the superior knowledge of the
world which he had recently acquired.

"If there was a billiard-table here," said he, "we could pass away the
time with a game, though, to be sure, it runs into money."

Norbert never had had more than a few pence in his pocket at one
time, and at this remark the color rose to his face, and he felt much
humiliated.

"My father," added the young collegian, "gives me all I ask for. I am
certain of getting one, if not two prizes at the next examination; and
when I have taken my degree, the Count de Mussidan has promised to make
me his steward. What do you think that you will do?"

"I--I don't know," stammered Norbert.

"You will, I suppose, dig and toil in the fields, as your father has
done before you. You are the son of the noblest and the richest man for
miles round, and yet you are not so happy as I am."

Upon the return of the Duke de Champdoce some little time after this
conversation, he did not detect any change in his son's manner; but the
words spoken by Montlouis had fallen into Norbert's brain like a subtle
poison, and a few careless sentences uttered by an inconsiderate lad had
annihilated the education of sixteen years, and a complete change had
taken place in Norbert's mind, a change which was utterly unsuspected by
those around him, for his manner of bringing up had taught him to keep
his own counsel.

The fixed smile on his features entirely masked the angry feelings that
were working in his breast. He went through his daily tasks, which had
once been a pleasure to him, with utter disgust and loathing. His eyes
had been suddenly opened, and he now understood a host of things which
he had never before even endeavored to comprehend. He saw now that his
proper position was among the nobles, whom he never saw except when they
attended Mass at the little chapel in Bevron. The Count de Mussidan, so
haughty and imposing, with his snow-white hair; the aristocratic-looking
Marquis de Laurebour