, gave ample
promise of the inventive genius and gift of characterisation
that were fully realised nine years later in "L'Abbe
Constantin." The tale, an exquisite study of French provincial
life, came as a distinct revelation of French life and
character to English readers. It has reached 240 editions, and
has been translated into all European languages. In 1886
Halevy was elected to the French Academy. He died on May 8,
1908.

_I.--"The Good Days Are Gone"_

With footstep firm and strong, despite his weight of years, an old
priest was walking along a dusty country road one sunny day in May 1881.
It was more than thirty years since the Abbe Constantin had first become
_cure_ of the little village sleeping there in the sunny plain of
France, beside a dainty stream called the Lizotte. He had been walking
for a quarter of an hour along the wall of the Chateau de Longueval. As
he reached the massive entrance gates he stopped and gazed sadly at two
immense bills pasted on the pillars. They announced the sale by auction
that day of the Longueval estate, divided into four lots: (1) The
castle, with all its grounds and parks; (2) the farm of
Blanche-Couronne, 700 acres; (3) the farm of Rozeraie, 500 acres; (4)
the forest and woods of Mionne, 900 acres. The reserve prices totalled
the respectable sum of 2,050,000 francs!

So that magnificent estate, which for two centuries had passed intact
from father to son in the Longueval family, was to be divided. The bills
announced, it was true, that after the preliminary sale of the four lots
the highest bidder might bid for the whole estate. But it was an
enormous sum, and no purchaser was likely to present himself.

The Marquise de Longueval, dying six months since, had left three heirs,
her grandchildren, two of whom were under age, so that the estate had to
be put up for sale. Pierre, the eldest, an extravagant young man of
twenty-three, had foolishly squandered half his money, and was quite
unable to re-purchase Longueval.

It was twelve o'clock. In an hour the chateau would have a new master.
Who would he be? Who could take the place of the marquise, the old
friend of the country cure, and the kindly friend of all the villagers.
The old priest walked on, thinking sadly of the habits of thirty years
suddenly interrupted. Every Thursday and every Sunday he had dined at
the chateau. How much had they made of him! Cure of Longueval! All