le boys playing,' said Serge, as he
descended from the table. 'Do you know how to play at "hot cockles"?'

There was no game that Albine did not know how to play at. But, for
'hot cockles,' at least three players are necessary, and that made them
laugh. Serge protested, however, that they got on too well together ever
to desire a third there, and they vowed that they would always remain by
themselves.

'We are quite alone here; one cannot hear a sound,' said the young
man, lolling on the couch. 'And all the furniture has such a pleasant
old-time smell. The place is as snug as a nest. We ought to be very
happy in this room.'

The girl shook her head gravely.

'If I had been at all timid,' she murmured, 'I should have been very
much frightened at first.... That is one of the stories I want to tell
you. The people in the neighbourhood told it to me. Perhaps it isn't
true, but it will amuse us, at any rate.'

Then she came and sat down by Serge's side.

'It is years and years since it all happened. The Paradou belonged to
a rich lord, who came and shut himself up in it with a very beautiful
lady. The gates of the mansion were kept so tightly closed, and the
garden walls were built so very high, that no one ever caught sight even
of the lady's skirts.'

'Ah! I know,' Serge interrupted; 'the lady was never seen again.'

Then, as Albine looked at him in surprise, somewhat annoyed to find that
he knew her story already, he added in a low voice, apparently a little
astonished himself: 'You told me the story before, you know.'

She declared that she had never done so; but all at once she seemed to
change her mind, and allowed herself to be convinced. However, that did
not prevent her from finishing her tale in these words: 'When the lord
went away his hair was quite white. He had all the gates barricaded up,
so that no one might get inside and disturb the lady. It was in this
room that she died.'

'In this room!' cried Serge. 'You never told me that! Are you quite sure
that it was really in this room she died?'

Albine seemed put out. She repeated to him what every one in the
neighbourhood knew. The lord had built the pavilion for the reception of
this unknown lady, who looked like a princess. The servants employed at
the mansion afterwards declared that he spent all his days and nights
there. Often, too, they saw him in one of the walks, guiding the tiny
feet of the mysterious lady towards the densest coppices. But