plicable sound from that quarter, as if the arms of that tree had
swayed of their own motion, and its weight of foliage had rushed and
crushed against the massive trunk. Yes; there scarce stirred a breeze,
and that heavy tree was convulsed, whilst the feathery shrubs stood
still. For some minutes amongst the wood and leafage a rending and
heaving went on. Dark as it was, it seemed to me that something more
solid than either night-shadow, or branch-shadow, blackened out of the
boles. At last the struggle ceased. What birth succeeded this travail?
What Dryad was born of these throes? We watched fixedly. A sudden bell
rang in the house--the prayer-bell. Instantly into our alley there
came, out of the berceau, an apparition, all black and white. With a
sort of angry rush-close, close past our faces--swept swiftly the very
NUN herself! Never had I seen her so clearly. She looked tall of
stature, and fierce of gesture. As she went, the wind rose sobbing; the
rain poured wild and cold; the whole night seemed to feel her.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE FIRST LETTER.

Where, it becomes time to inquire, was Paulina Mary? How fared my
intercourse with the sumptuous Hotel Crecy? That intercourse had, for
an interval, been suspended by absence; M. and Miss de Bassompierre had
been travelling, dividing some weeks between the provinces and capital
of France. Chance apprised me of their return very shortly after it
took place.

I was walking one mild afternoon on a quiet boulevard, wandering slowly
on, enjoying the benign April sun, and some thoughts not unpleasing,
when I saw before me a group of riders, stopping as if they had just
encountered, and exchanging greetings in the midst of the broad,
smooth, linden-bordered path; on one side a middle-aged gentleman and
young lady, on the other--a young and handsome man. Very graceful was
the lady's mien, choice her appointments, delicate and stately her
whole aspect. Still, as I looked, I felt they were known to me, and,
drawing a little nearer, I fully recognised them all: the Count Home de
Bassompierre, his daughter, and Dr. Graham Bretton.

How animated was Graham's face! How true, how warm, yet how retiring
the joy it expressed! This was the state of things, this the
combination of circumstances, at once to attract and enchain, to subdue
and excite Dr. John. The pearl he admired was in itself of great price
and truest purity, but he was not the man who, in appreciating the gem,
co