his own affairs, was doomed to fall, like
a lamb, at the butcher's first blow.

Madame de Listomere's country-place, situated on the embankment which
lies between Tours and the heights of Saint-Georges, with a southern
exposure and surrounded by rocks, combined the charms of the country
with the pleasures of the town. It took but ten minutes from the
bridge of Tours to reach the house, which was called the "Alouette,"
--a great advantage in a region where no one will put himself out for
anything whatsoever, not even to seek a pleasure.

The Abbe Birotteau had been about ten days at the Alouette, when, one
morning while he was breakfasting, the porter came to say that
Monsieur Caron desired to speak with him. Monsieur Caron was
Mademoiselle Gamard's laywer, and had charge of her affairs.
Birotteau, not remembering this, and unable to think of any matter of
litigation between himself and others, left the table to see the
lawyer in a stage of great agitation. He found him modestly seated on
the balustrade of a terrace.

"Your intention of ceasing to reside in Mademoiselle Gamard's house
being made evident--" began the man of business.

"Eh! monsieur," cried the Abbe Birotteau, interrupting him, "I have
not the slightest intention of leaving it."

"Nevertheless, monsieur," replied the lawyer, "you must have had some
agreement in the matter with Mademoiselle, for she has sent me to ask
how long you intend to remain in the country. The event of a long
absence was not foreseen in the agreement, and may lead to a contest.
Now, Mademoiselle Gamard understanding that your board--"

"Monsieur," said Birotteau, amazed, and again interrupting the lawyer,
"I did not suppose it necessary to employ, as it were, legal means
to--"

"Mademoiselle Gamard, who is anxious to avoid all dispute," said
Monsieur Caron, "has sent me to come to an understanding with you."

"Well, if you will have the goodness to return to-morrow," said the
abbe, "I shall then have taken advice in the matter."

The quill-driver withdrew. The poor vicar, frightened at the
persistence with which Mademoiselle Gamard pursued him, returned to
the dining-room with his face so convulsed that everybody cried out
when they saw him: "What _is_ the matter, Monsieur Birotteau?"

The abbe, in despair, sat down without a word, so crushed was he by
the vague presence of approaching disaster. But after breakfast, when
his friends gathered round him before a comfortable