that she understood his shame and humiliation. He wished to run away and
shut himself into a room at Aulnettes, and never leave it again.

Fortunately, some one came into the office, and Cecile, busy at her
scales, writing the labels as her grandmother had done, gave Jack time
to recover his equanimity.

How good and patient she was! These poor peasant women were very stupid
and wearisome with their long explanations. She encouraged them with
her sympathy, cheered them with her words of counsel, and reproved them
gently for their mistakes.

She was busy at this moment with an old acquaintance of Jack's,--the
very woman who had taken so much pleasure in terrifying him when he was
little. Bowed, as nearly all the peasantry are by their daily labor,
burned by the sun, and powdered by the dust, old Sale yet retained a
little life in her sharp eyes. She spoke of her good man, who had been
sick for months,--who could not work, and yet had to eat. She said two
or three things calculated to disconcert a young girl, and looked Cecile
directly in the face with malicious delight. Two or three times Jack
felt a strong inclination to put the wretch out of the door; but he
restrained himself when he saw the cold dignity with which Cecile
listened.

The old woman finally finished her discourse, and, as she passed Jack
going out, recognized him.

"What!" she exclaimed, "the little Aulnettes boy come to life again?
Ah, Mademoiselle Cecile, your uncle won't want you to marry him now, I
fancy, though there was a time when everybody thought that was what the
doctor desired;" and, chuckling, she left the room.

Jack turned pale. The old woman had finally struck the blow that, so
many years ago, she had threatened him with. But Jack was not the
only one who was disturbed. A fair face, bent low over a big book, was
scarlet with annoyance.

"Come, Catherine, bring the soup." It was the doctor who spoke. "And you
two, have you not found a word to say to each other after seven years'
absence?"

At the table Jack was no more at his ease. He was afraid that some of
his bad habits would show themselves; and his hands--what could he
do with them? With one he must hold his fork, but with the other? The
whiteness of the linen made it look appallingly black. Cecile saw his
discomfort, and understanding that her watchfulness increased it, hardly
glanced again in his direction.

Catherine took away the dessert, and put before the young girl h