hat she would ask for an explanation, but,
seeing that she did not appear to understand, he added:

"I have offended you. I have misunderstood you, and I have been cruelly
punished for my mistake. But what avails my tardy regret in healing the
injuries I have inflicted! Ah! if one could only go backward, and efface,
with a single stroke, the hours in which one has been blind and
headstrong!"

"Let us not speak of that!" replied she, shortly, but in a singularly
softened tone.

In spite of herself, she was touched by this expression of repentance, so
naively acknowledged in broken, disconnected sentences, vibrating with
the ring of true sincerity. In proportion as he abased himself, her anger
diminished, and she recognized that she loved him just the same,
notwithstanding his defects, his weakness, and his want of tact and
polish. She was also profoundly touched by his revealing to her, for the
first time, a portion of his hidden feelings.

They had become silent again, but they felt nearer to each other than
ever before; their secret thoughts seemed to be transmitted to each
other; a mute understanding was established between them. She lent him
the support of her arm with more freedom, and the young man seemed to
experience fresh delight in her firm and sympathetic assistance.

Progressing slowly, although more quickly than they would have chosen
themselves, they reached the foot of the path, and perceived the wagon
waiting on the beaten road. Julien mounted therein with the aid of Reine
and the driver. When he was stretched on the straw, which had been spread
for him on the bottom of the wagon, he leaned forward on the side, and
his eyes met those of Reine. For a few moments their gaze seemed riveted
upon each other, and their mutual understanding was complete. These few,
brief moments contained a whole confession of love; avowals mingled with
repentance, promises of pardon, tender reconciliation!

"Thanks!" he sighed at last, "will you give me your hand?"

She gave it, and while he held it in his own, Reine turned toward the
driver on the seat.

"Felix," said she, warningly, "drive slowly and avoid the ruts.
Good-night, Monsieur de Buxieres, send for the doctor as soon as you get
in, and all will be well. I will send to inquire how you are getting
along."

She turned and went pensively down the road to La Thuiliere, while the
carriage followed slowly the direction to Vivey.

The doctor, being sent for imme