eaning of a so-early promenade?'
Nothing of the kind; my mother took my arm, and my wife, leading little
Jean by the hand, came to the other side. The servants followed. The
street was quite full of people; but there was no noise except the sound
of their footsteps. All of us turned the same way--turned towards the
gates--and though I was not conscious of any feeling except the wish to
go on, there were one or two things which took a place in my memory. The
first was, that my wife suddenly turned round as we were coming out of
the _porte-cochere_, her face lighting up. I need not say to any one who
knows Madame Dupin de la Clairiere, that she is a beautiful woman.
Without any partiality on my part, it would be impossible for me to
ignore this fact: for it is perfectly well known and acknowledged by
all. She was pale this morning--a little paler than usual; and her blue
eyes enlarged, with a serious look, which they always retain more or
less. But suddenly, as we went out of the door, her face lighted up, her
eyes were suffused with tears--with light--how can I tell what it
was?--they became like the eyes of angels. A little cry came from her
parted lips--she lingered a moment, stooping down as if talking to some
one less tall than herself, then came after us, with that light still in
her face. At the moment I was too much occupied to enquire what it was;
but I noted it, even in the gravity of the occasion. The next thing I
observed was M. le Cure, who, as I have already indicated, is a man of
great composure of manner and presence of mind, coming out of the door
of the Presbytery. There was a strange look on his face of astonishment
and reluctance. He walked very slowly, not as we did, but with a visible
desire to turn back, folding his arms across his breast, and holding
himself as if against the wind, resisting some gale which blew behind
him, and forced him on. We felt no gale; but there seemed to be a
strange wind blowing along the side of the street on which M. le Cure
was. And there was an air of concealed surprise in his face--great
astonishment, but a determination not to let any one see that he was
astonished, or that the situation was strange to him. And I cannot tell
how it was, but I, too, though pre-occupied, was surprised to perceive
that M. le Cure was going with the rest of us, though I could not have
told why.

Behind M. le Cure there was another whom I remarked. This was Jacques
Richard, he of whom I h