little creature
who could be a wasp or a humming-bird, as he pleased. Then, too, this
stranger had conquered her dear avocat; had won the hearts of the
mothers and daughters--her own servants talked of no one else; had
captured this pretty Elise Malboir; had caused the young men to imitate
his walk and retail his sayings; had won from herself an invitation to
visit her; and now had made an unconscious herald and champion of an
innocent old Cure, and set a whole congregation singing "Vive Napoleon"
after mass.

Napoleon? She threw back her pretty head, laughed softly, and fanned
herself. Napoleon? Why, of course there could be no real connection; the
man was an impostor, a base impostor, playing upon the credulities of a
secluded village. Absurd--and interesting! So interesting, she did not
resent the attention given to Valmond, to the exclusion of herself;
though to speak truly, her vanity desired not admiration more than is
inherent in the race of women.

Yet she was very dainty this morning, good to look at, and refreshing,
with everything in flower-like accord; simple in general effect, yet
with touches of the dramatic here and there--in the little black patch
on the delicate health of her cheek, in the seductive arrangements of
her laces. She loved dress, all the vanities, but she had something
above it all--an imaginative mind, certain of whose faculties had
been sharpened to a fine edge of cleverness and wit. For she was but
twenty-three; with the logic of a woman of fifty, without its setness
and lack of elasticity. She went straight for the hearts of things,
while yet she glittered upon the surface. This was why Valmond
interested her--not as a man, a physical personality, but as a mystery
to be probed, discovered. Sentiment? Coquetry? Not with him. That for
less interesting men, she said to herself. Why should a point or two
of dress and manners affect her unpleasantly? She ought to be just, to
remember that there was a touch of the fantastic, of the barbaric, in
all genius.

Was he a genius? For an instant she almost thought he was, when she saw
the people make way for him to pass out of the church, as though he were
a great personage, Parpon trotting behind him. He carried himself with
true appreciation of the incident, acknowledging more by look than by
sign this courtesy.

"Upon my word," she said, "he has them in his pocket." Then,
unconsciously plagiarising Parpon: "Prince or barber--a toss-up!"

O