dearest friend," he said in a voice trembling
with emotion, "but I feel utterly unable to return with you now, to see
strangers and unite in the light conversation of general society. Allow
me to take leave of you for a few hours. It's an old uncivil habit,
that only in complete solitude can I hear what my poor soul says to me
on some occasions. The forest is so beautiful, and the rain has ceased;
I'll wander hap-hazard through the thickets. This evening at any rate
I'll be with you, in case you need me."

"I'll impose no restrictions upon your liberty," replied the beautiful
woman, without turning her eyes from her horses' heads. "You're right
to avoid what's contrary to your nature and happy in being able to do
so! But you'll compensate me for these lost hours to-morrow--day after
to-morrow--the whole week. No; no objections! You want to restore me to
the old habit of being happy, and it will not be done so very quickly.
I've forgotten too much. Adieu, dear friend,--until this evening!"

She cracked the whip Jean had handed to her, the tall lad in the green
and silver livery sprang into the back seat, and away dashed the light
carriage, as if the horses wished to doubly indemnify themselves for
the unwelcome rest.

Edwin stood still a long time watching the flutter of Toinette's grey
veil, then with a heavy sigh, turned away and plunged into the network
of paths leading from the high road.

CHAPTER VII.

So deep a silence reigned here, that when he paused, he fancied he
could hear the sap rising through the trunks of the trees. The wind,
which had brought the rain, had changed, the brightest summer sky
arched over the cool forest. From the thicket of pines, a narrow path
wound through large tracts of hilly beech woods, past which the hunt
had rushed at so great a distance that the deer and hares had not been
startled from their repose, and let the lonely pedestrian pass by with
more curiosity than fear. But he scarcely disturbed them by a glance;
his gaze was turned inward; he was questioning his own heart, yesterday
so peaceful, and now agitated by a wild horde of painful thoughts.

He understood this impetuous heart well enough not to deceive himself a
moment as regarded the nature of the storm within. So fixed was his
habit of taking seriously everything he felt, and his honest endeavor
never to spare or palliate anything pernicious in his nature, that even
midst the inde