e sky where the bright moon was sailing along, he suddenly
said:

"That is a sight one never gets tired of."

Then he went in to say good-bye to the ladies.

* * * * *

III

The next Sunday the baroness and Jeanne went to mass out of deference to
their cure, and after it was over they waited to ask him to luncheon for
the following Thursday. He came out of the vestry with a tall,
good-looking, young man who had familiarly taken his arm.

As soon as he saw the two ladies he gave a look of pleased surprise, and
exclaimed:

"What a lucky thing! Madame la baronne and Mlle. Jeanne, permit me to
present to you your neighbor, M. le Vicomte de Lamare."

The vicomte bowed, expressed the desire he had long felt to make their
acquaintance, and began to talk with the ease of a man accustomed to
good society. His face was one that women raved about and that all men
disliked. His black, curly hair fell over a smooth, bronzed forehead,
and long, regular eyebrows gave a depth and tenderness to his dark eyes.
Long, thick lashes lent to his glance the passionate eloquence which
thrills the heart of the high-born lady in her boudoir, and makes the
poor girl, with her basket on her arm, turn round in the street, and the
languorous charm of his eyes, with their whites faintly tinged with
blue, gave importance to his least word and made people believe in the
profoundness of his thought. A thick, silky beard hid a jaw which was a
little heavy.

After mutual compliments he said good-bye to the ladies; and two days
afterwards made his first call at the chateau.

He arrived just as they were looking at a rustic-seat, placed only that
morning under the big plane-tree opposite the drawing-room windows. The
baron wanted to have another one under the linden to make a pair, but
the baroness, who disliked things to be exactly symmetrical, said no.
The vicomte, on being asked his opinion, sided with the baroness.

Then he talked about the surrounding country, which he thought very
"picturesque," and about the charming "bits" he had come across in his
solitary walks. From time to time his eyes met Jeanne's, as though by
chance; and she felt a strange sensation at these sudden looks which
were quickly turned away and which expressed a lively admiration and
sympathy.

M. de Lamare's father, who had died the year before, had known an
intimate friend of M. des Cultaux, the baroness's father, and the
discovery o