he rainy twilight of the morning, beat upon their
breasts and blew into their hands for warmth. The house had entirely
fallen, the walls outward, the roof in; it was a mere heap of rubbish,
with here and there a forlorn spear of broken rafter. A sentinel was
placed over the ruins to protect the property, and the party adjourned to
Tentaillon's to break their fast at the Doctor's expense. The bottle
circulated somewhat freely; and before they left the table it had begun
to snow.

For three days the snow continued to fall, and the ruins, covered with
tarpaulin and watched by sentries, were left undisturbed. The Desprez'
meanwhile had taken up their abode at Tentaillon's. Madame spent her
time in the kitchen, concocting little delicacies, with the admiring aid
of Madame Tentaillon, or sitting by the fire in thoughtful abstraction.
The fall of the house affected her wonderfully little; that blow had been
parried by another; and in her mind she was continually fighting over
again the battle of the trousers. Had she done right? Had she done
wrong? And now she would applaud her determination; and anon, with a
horrid flush of unavailing penitence, she would regret the trousers. No
juncture in her life had so much exercised her judgment. In the meantime
the Doctor had become vastly pleased with his situation. Two of the
summer boarders still lingered behind the rest, prisoners for lack of a
remittance; they were both English, but one of them spoke French pretty
fluently, and was, besides, a humorous, agile-minded fellow, with whom
the Doctor could reason by the hour, secure of comprehension. Many were
the glasses they emptied, many the topics they discussed.

'Anastasie,' the Doctor said on the third morning, 'take an example from
your husband, from Jean-Marie! The excitement has done more for the boy
than all my tonics, he takes his turn as sentry with positive gusto. As
for me, you behold me. I have made friends with the Egyptians; and my
Pharaoh is, I swear it, a most agreeable companion. You alone are
hipped. About a house--a few dresses? What are they in comparison to
the "Pharmacopoeia"--the labour of years lying buried below stones and
sticks in this depressing hamlet? The snow falls; I shake it from my
cloak! Imitate me. Our income will be impaired, I grant it, since we
must rebuild; but moderation, patience, and philosophy will gather about
the hearth. In the meanwhile, the Tentaillons are obliging