," and so poured
forth his tale, and feeling sure of sympathy, asked Jacintha whether it
was not bitterly unjust of Rose to refuse him her own acquaintance, yet
ask him to amuse that old fogy.

Jacintha stood with her great arms akimbo, taking it all in, and looking
at him with a droll expression of satirical wonder.

"Now you listen to a parable," said she. "Once there was a little boy
madly in love with raspberry jam."

"A thing I hate."

"Don't tell me! Who hates raspberry jam? He came to the store closet,
where he knew there were jars of it, and--oh! misery--the door was
locked. He kicked the door, and wept bitterly. His mamma came and said,
'Here is the key,' and gave him the key. And what did he do? Why,
he fell to crying and roaring, and kicking the door. 'I don't
wa-wa-wa-wa-nt the key-ey-ey. I wa-a-ant the jam--oh! oh! oh! oh!'"
and Jacintha mimicked, after her fashion, the mingled grief and ire of
infancy debarred its jam. Edouard wore a puzzled air, but it was only
for a moment; the next he hid his face in his hands, and cried, "Fool!"

"I shall not contradict you," said his Mentor.

"She was my best friend. Once acquainted with the doctor, I could visit
at Beaurepaire."

"Parbleu!"

"She had thought of a way to reconcile my wishes with this terrible
etiquette that reigns here."

"She thinks to more purpose than you do; that is clear."

"Nothing is left now but to ask her pardon, and to consent; I am off."

"No, you are not," and Jacintha laid a grasp of iron on him. "Will you
be quiet?--is not one blunder a day enough? If you go near her now, she
will affront you, and order the doctor not to speak to you."

"O Jacintha! your sex then are fiends of malice?"

"While it lasts. Luckily with us nothing lasts very long. Now you don't
go near her till you have taken advantage of her hint, and made the
doctor's acquaintance; that is easy done. He walks two hours on the east
road every day, with his feet in the puddles and his head in the clouds.
Them's HIS two tastes."

"But how am I to get him out of the clouds and the puddles?" inquired
Riviere half peevishly.

"How?" asked Jacintha, with a dash of that contempt uneducated persons
generally have for any one who does not know some little thing they
happen to know themselves. "How? Why, with the nearest blackbeetle, to
be sure."

"A blackbeetle?"

"Black or brown; it matters little. Have her ready for use in your
handkerchief: pull a long face