not
agree with you?"

"It is not the air," replied Julien, in an irritated tone, "it is the
people who do not agree with me. And, indeed," sighed he, "I do not think
I agree any better with them. But I need not annoy other persons merely
because I am annoyed myself! Mademoiselle Vincart, what can I do to be of
service to you? Have you anything to ask me?"

"Not at all!" exclaimed Reine, with a frank smile; "I not only have
nothing to ask from you, but I have brought something for you--six
hundred francs for wood we had bought from the late Monsieur de Buxieres,
during the sale of the Ronces forest." She drew from under her cloak a
little bag of gray linen, containing gold, five-franc pieces and
bank-notes. "Will you be good enough to verify the amount?" continued
she, emptying the bag upon the table; "I think it is correct. You must
have somewhere a memorandum of the transaction in writing."

Julien began to look through the papers, but he got bewildered with the
number of rough notes jotted down on various slips of paper, until at
last, in an impatient fit of vexation, he flung the whole bundle away,
scattering the loose sheets all over the floor.

"Who can find anything in such a chaos?" he exclaimed. "I can't see my
way through it, and when I try to get information from the people here,
they seem to have an understanding among themselves to leave me under a
wrong impression, or even to make my uncertainties still greater! Ah!
Mademoiselle Reine, you were right! I do not understand the ways of your
country folk. Every now and then I am tempted to leave everything just as
it stands, and get away from this village, where the people mistrust me
and treat me like an enemy!"

Reine gazed at him with a look of compassionate surprise. Stooping
quietly down, she picked up the scattered papers, and while putting them
in order on the table, she happened to see the one relating to her own
business.

"Here, Monsieur de Buxieres," said she, "here is the very note you were
looking for. You seem to be somewhat impatient. Our country folk are not
so bad as you think; only they do not yield easily to new influences. The
beginning is always difficult for them. I know something about it myself.
When I returned from Dijon to take charge of the affairs at La Thuiliere,
I had no more experience than you, Monsieur, and I had great difficulty
in accomplishing anything. Where should we be now, if I had suffered
myself to be discourage