full year she lived
purely, industriously, lonely; what adventures ensued Ralph knew
imperfectly. She met, he believed that she loved him. It was not
probable, of course, that she came out of the wrestle unscathed. She
deceived in little things, but he knew when to trust her. She was
quick-tempered and impatient of control, but he understood her, and
their quarrels were harbingers of their most happy seasons. She was
generous, affectionate, artless. He did not know among the similar
attachments of his friends any creature so pliable, so true, so
beautiful.

It was upon her acquaintances that Ralph placed the blame when she
erred. Fanchette was one of these--the dame of a student from Bretagne,
a worldly, plotting, masculine woman--the only one whom he permitted to
visit her. It was Fanchette who loaned her money when she was indolent,
and who prompted her to ask favors beyond his means.

Toward the end of every month Ralph's money ran out, and then he was
petulant and often upbraided her. Those were the only times when he
essayed to study, and he would not walk with her of evenings, so
destitute. Then Fanchette amused her: "Sew in my room," she would say;
"Ralph will come for you at eight o'clock." But Ralph never went, and
Fanchette poisoned his little girl's mind.

"When will you leave Paris, baby?" said Suzette one evening, as she
returned from her friend's and found him sitting moodily by the fire.

"Very soon," he replied crisply; "that is, if ever I have money or
resolution enough to start."

"Won't you take me with you, little one?"

"No!"

"You don't love me any more!"

"Pish!"

"Kiss me, my boy!"

"Oh, go away, you bother me--you always bother me when my money is low.
Haven't I told you about it before?"

But the next morning as Suzette made her toilet, older and more
silently, he felt repentant, and called her to him, and they talked a
long while of nothingnesses. He had a cruel way of playing with her
feelings.

"Suzette," he would say, "would you like me to take you to my country
and live with you forever?"

"Very much, my child!"

"My father has a beautiful farm, which he means to give to me. There is
a grand old house upon it, and from the high porch you can see the blue
bay speckled with sails. The orchards are filled with apples and pears.
You must walk an hour to get around the corn-fields, and there is a
picnic ground in the beech-woods, where we might entertain our friends.
I hav