ther side of
it.

The bull had driven Felicite up against a fence; the foam from his
muzzle flew in her face and in another minute he would have
disembowelled her. She had just time to slip between two bars and
the huge animal, thwarted, paused.

For years, this occurrence was a topic of conversation in
Pont-l'Eveque. But Felicite took no credit to herself, and
probably never knew that she had been heroic.

Virginia occupied her thoughts solely, for the shock she had
sustained gave her a nervous affection, and the physician, M.
Poupart, prescribed the saltwater bathing at Trouville. In those
days, Trouville was not greatly patronised. Madame Aubain gathered
information, consulted Bourais, and made preparations as if they
were going on an extended trip.

The baggage was sent the day before on Liebard's cart. On the
following morning, he brought around two horses, one of which had
a woman's saddle with a velveteen back to it, while on the crupper
of the other was a rolled shawl that was to be used for a seat.
Madame Aubain mounted the second horse, behind Liebard. Felicite
took charge of the little girl, and Paul rode M. Lechaptois'
donkey, which had been lent for the occasion on the condition that
they should be careful of it.

The road was so bad that it took two hours to cover the eight
miles. The two horses sank knee-deep into the mud and stumbled
into ditches; sometimes they had to jump over them. In certain
places, Liebard's mare stopped abruptly. He waited patiently till
she started again, and talked of the people whose estates bordered
the road, adding his own moral reflections to the outline of their
histories. Thus, when they were passing through Toucques, and came
to some windows draped with nasturtiums, he shrugged his shoulders
and said: "There's a woman, Madame Lehoussais, who, instead of
taking a young man--" Felicite could not catch what followed; the
horses began to trot, the donkey to gallop, and they turned into a
lane; then a gate swung open, two farm-hands appeared and they all
dismounted at the very threshold of the farm-house.

Mother Liebard, when she caught sight of her mistress, was lavish
with joyful demonstrations. She got up a lunch which comprised a
leg of mutton, tripe, sausages, a chicken fricassee, sweet cider,
a fruit tart and some preserved prunes; then to all this the good
woman added polite remarks about Madame, who appeared to be in
better health, Mademoiselle, who had grown