the secrets
of their hearts, and lingered over the music of the words that passed
their lips. He confessed to her the charm her voice had always been
to him, so much so that as soon as he heard it he became at once her
devoted slave. She acknowledged the delicious fear she always had at
seeing his pale face flush at the slightest anger or displeasure.

They had now left the misty banks of the Chevrotte, and arm-in-arm they
entered under the shadows of the great elm-trees.

"Oh! this beautiful garden," whispered Angelique, happy to breathe in
the freshness which fell from the trees. "For years I have wished to
enter it; and now I am here with you--yes, I am here."

It did not occur to her to ask him where he was leading her, but she
gave herself up to his guidance, under the darkness of these centenarian
trees. The ground was soft under their feet; the archway of leaves above
them was high, like the vaulted ceiling of a church. There was neither
sound nor breath, only the beating of their own hearts.

At length he pushed open the door of a little pavilion, and said to her:
"Go in; this is my home."

It was there that his father had seen fit to install him all by himself,
in this distant corner of the park. On the first floor there was a hall,
and one very large room, which was now lighted by a great lamp. Above
was a complete little apartment.

"You can see for yourself," he continued smilingly, "that you are at the
house of an artisan. This is my shop."

It was a working-room indeed; the caprice of a wealthy young man,
who amused himself in his leisure hours by painting on glass. He had
re-found the ancient methods of the thirteenth century, so that he could
fancy himself as being one of the primitive glass-workers, producing
masterpieces with the poor, unfinished means of the older time. An
ancient table answered all his purposes. It was coated with moist,
powdered chalk, upon which he drew his designs in red, and where he
cut the panes with heated irons, disdaining the modern use of a diamond
point. The muffle, a little furnace made after the fashion of an old
model, was just now quite heated; the baking of some picture was going
on, which was to be used in repairing another stained window in the
Cathedral; and in cases on every side were glasses of all colours which
he had ordered to be made expressly for him, in blue, yellow, green, and
red, in many lighter tints, marbled, smoked, shaded, pearl-coloured, and