thought, from this hasty
departure and the care you took to conceal your abiding-place, that you
were fleeing from me. Oh! tell me that I was mistaken; or, if it is true
that you wished to separate yourself from me, say that this cruel resolve
had left your mind, and that you will pardon me for following you! You
will pardon me, will you not? If I trouble or annoy you, lay the blame
entirely upon my love, which I can not restrain, and which drives me at
times to do the most extravagant things; call it reckless, insane love,
if you will; but believe it to be true and devoted!"

Clemence replied to this passionate tirade by simply shaking her head as
a child does who hears the buzzing of a wasp and fears its sting; then,
as they reached the bench, she said with affected surprise:

"You have made a mistake, this is not your road; you should have gone
over the bridge."

There was a little palpable insincerity in these words; for if the road
which they had taken did not lead to the bridge, neither did it lead to
the chateau, and the mistake, if there was one, was mutual.

"Listen to me, I beg of you," replied the lover, with 'a supplicating
glance, "I have so many things to say to you! I beg of you, grant me one
moment."

"Afterward, will you obey me?"

"Only a few words, and I will then do all that you wish."

She hesitated a moment; then, her conscience doubtless lulled by this
promise, she seated herself and made a gesture for M. de Gerfaut to do
likewise. The young man did not make her repeat this invitation, but
hypocritically seated himself on the farther end of the seat.

"Now, talk reasonably," she said, in a calm tone. "I suppose that you are
on your way to Germany or Switzerland, and as you passed near me you
wished to favor me with a call. I ought to be proud of this mark of
respect from a man so celebrated as you are, although you are rather
hiding your light under this garb. We are not very strict as to dress in
the country, but, really, yours is quite unceremonious. Tell me, where
did you find that headdress?"

These last words were spoken with the careless, mocking gayety of a young
girl.

Gerfaut smiled, but he took off his cap. Knowing the importance that
women attach to little things, and what an irreparable impression an ugly
cravat or unblacked boots might produce in the most affecting moments, he
did not wish to compromise himself by a ridiculous head-gear. He passed
his hand through his hai