hould demean myself; but now that I was in the
country, an ominous thought flashed through my soul like a thunderbolt
tearing its way through a veil of gray cloud.

What an awful piece of news it was for a woman whose whole thoughts were
full of her young lover, who was looking forward hour by hour to a joy
which no words can express, a woman who had been at a world of pains to
invent plausible pretexts to draw him to her side. Yet, after all, it
was a cruel deed of charity to be the messenger of death! So I hurried
on, splashing and bemiring myself in the byways of the Bourbonnais.

Before very long I reached a great chestnut avenue with a pile of
buildings at the further end--the Chateau of Montpersan stood out
against the sky like a mass of brown cloud, with sharp, fantastic
outlines. All the doors of the chateau stood open. This in itself
disconcerted me, and routed all my plans; but I went in boldly, and in
a moment found myself between a couple of dogs, barking as your
true country-bred animal can bark. The sound brought out a hurrying
servant-maid; who, when informed that I wished to speak to Mme. la
Comtesse, waved a hand towards the masses of trees in the English park
which wound about the chateau with "Madame is out there----"

"Many thanks," said I ironically. I might have wandered for a couple of
hours in the park with her "out there" to guide me.

In the meantime, a pretty little girl, with curling hair, dressed in a
white frock, a rose-colored sash, and a broad frill at the throat, had
overheard or guessed the question and its answer. She gave me a glance
and vanished, calling in shrill, childish tones:

"Mother, here is a gentleman who wishes to speak to you!"

And, along the winding alleys, I followed the skipping and dancing white
frill, a sort of will-o'-the-wisp, that showed me the way among the
trees.

I must make a full confession. I stopped behind the last shrub in the
avenue, pulled up my collar, rubbed my shabby hat and my trousers with
the cuffs of my sleeves, dusted my coat with the sleeves themselves,
and gave them a final cleansing rub one against the other. I buttoned my
coat carefully so as to exhibit the inner, always the least worn, side
of the cloth, and finally had turned down the tops of my trousers over
my boots, artistically cleaned in the grass. Thanks to this Gascon
toilet, I could hope that the lady would not take me for the local rate
collector; but now when my thoughts tr