oking, but much
moved, resistance, according to the natural law, exciting the relative
desire. At last came the surrender; the little hand opened, and their
fingers joined in a clasp which parted their gloves, for one exquisite
moment of full avowal and complete possession. The next minute the
woman's pride awoke. She wanted to speak, to show that she was mistress
of herself, that she had no part in what was done, nor knowledge of it
at all. Finding nothing to say, she read aloud the epitaph on a tomb
lying flat among the weeds, 'Augusta, 1847,' and he continued, under
his breath, 'A love-story, no doubt.' Overhead the thrushes and
finches uttered their strident notes, not unlike the sounds of the
stone-cutting, which were heard uninterruptedly in the distance.

They were now entering the Twentieth Division, the part of the cemetery
which may be called its 'old town,' where the paths are narrower, the
trees higher, the tombs closer together, a confused mass of ironwork,
pillars, Greek temples, pyramids, angels, genii, busts, wings open
and wings folded. The tombs were various as the lives now hidden
beneath--commonplace, odd, original, simple, forced, pretentious,
modest. In some the floor-stones were freshly cleaned and loaded with
flowers, memorials, and miniature gardens of a Chinese elegance in
littleness. In others the mossy slabs were mouldering or parting, and
were covered with brambles and high weeds. But all bore well-known
names, names distinctly Parisian, names of lawyers, judges, merchants
of eminence, ranged here in rows as in the haunts of business and
trade. There were even double names, standing for family partnerships
in capital and connection, substantial signatures, known no more to the
directory or the bank ledger, but united for ever upon the tomb. And
Madame de Rosen remarked them with the same tone of surprise, almost
of pleasure, with which she would have bowed to a carriage in the Park,
'Ah! the So-and-So's! Mario? was that the singer?' and so forth, all by
way of seeming not to know that their hands were clasped.

But presently the door of a tomb near them creaked, and there appeared
a large lady in black, with a round fresh face. She carried a little
watering-pot, and was putting to rights the flower-beds, oratory, and
tomb generally, as calmly as if she had been in a summer-house. She
nodded to them across the Enclosure with a kindly smile of unselfish
good will, which seemed to say, 'Use yo