lightning, they said, this love. A heart once touched by it becomes
forever such a waste, so ruined, so consumed, that no other strong
sentiment can take root there, not even a dream. The marquis, who had
indulged in many love affairs, disputed this belief.

"I tell you it is possible to love several times with all one's heart and
soul. You quote examples of persons who have killed themselves for love,
to prove the impossibility of a second passion. I wager that if they had
not foolishly committed suicide, and so destroyed the possibility of a
second experience, they would have found a new love, and still another,
and so on till death. It is with love as with drink. He who has once
indulged is forever a slave. It is a thing of temperament."

They chose the old doctor as umpire. He thought it was as the marquis had
said, a thing of temperament.

"As for me," he said, "I once knew of a love which lasted fifty-five
years without one day's respite, and which ended only with death." The
wife of the marquis clasped her hands.

"That is beautiful! Ah, what a dream to be loved in such a way! What
bliss to live for fifty-five years enveloped in an intense, unwavering
affection! How this happy being must have blessed his life to be so
adored!"

The doctor smiled.

"You are not mistaken, madame, on this point the loved one was a man. You
even know him; it is Monsieur Chouquet, the chemist. As to the woman, you
also know her, the old chair-mender, who came every year to the chateau."
The enthusiasm of the women fell. Some expressed their contempt with
"Pouah!" for the loves of common people did not interest them. The doctor
continued: "Three months ago I was called to the deathbed of the old
chair-mender. The priest had preceded me. She wished to make us the
executors of her will. In order that we might understand her conduct, she
told us the story of her life. It is most singular and touching: Her
father and mother were both chair-menders. She had never lived in a
house. As a little child she wandered about with them, dirty, unkempt,
hungry. They visited many towns, leaving their horse, wagon and dog just
outside the limits, where the child played in the grass alone until her
parents had repaired all the broken chairs in the place. They seldom
spoke, except to cry, 'Chairs! Chairs! Chair-mender!'

"When the little one strayed too far away, she would be called back by
the harsh, angry voice of her father. She never heard a