fectly still, watched the slumber of Desiree, that big,
plump girl who found her great delight in rolling about in the straw.
She wished that she, too, could slumber away so peacefully, and feel
such pleasure, because a few straws had tickled her neck. And she felt
jealous of those strong arms, that firm bosom, all that vitality, all
that purely animal development which made the other like a tranquil
easy-minded sister of the big red and white cow.

However, the rain had now quite ceased. The three cats of the parsonage
filed out into the yard one after the other, keeping close to the wall,
and taking the greatest precautions to avoid wetting their paws. They
peeped into the stable, and then stalked up to the sleeping girl, and
lay down, purring, close by her. Moumou, the big black cat, curled
itself up close to her cheek, and gently licked her chin.

'And Serge?' murmured Albine, quite mechanically.

What was it that kept them apart? Who was it that prevented them from
being happy together? Why might she not love him, and why might she
not be loved, freely and in the broad sunlight, as the trees lived and
loved? She knew not, but she felt that she had been forsaken, and had
received a mortal wound. Yet she was possessed by a stubborn, determined
longing, a very necessity, indeed, of once more clasping her love in
her arms, of concealing him somewhere, that he might be hers in all
felicity. She rose to her feet. The vestry door had just been opened
again. A clapping of hands sounded, followed by the uproar of a swarm
of children clattering in wooden shoes over the stone flags. The
catechising was over. Then Albine gently glided out of the stable, where
she had been waiting for an hour amidst the reeking warmth that emanated
from Desiree's pets.

As she quietly slipped through the passage that led to the vestry,
she caught sight of La Teuse, who was going to her kitchen, and who
fortunately did not turn her head. Certain, now, of not being seen and
stopped, Albine softly pushed the door which was before her, keeping
hold of it in order that it might make no noise as it closed again.

And she found herself in the church.

VIII

At first she could see nobody. Outside, the rain had again begun to fall
in fine close drops. The church looked very grey and gloomy. She passed
behind the high altar, and walked on towards the pulpit. In the middle
of the nave, there were only a number of empty benches, left there in