ctly plain from his looks, that Monsieur Le Prun suspected
_her_ of being the "meddler" in question; but before she could muster
presence of mind to attempt her exculpation, he was gone. The interview
was like an ugly, flitting dream. His angry face and menacing croak had
scared her senses but for a moment; the apparition had vanished, and,
with a heart still beating fast, she went stealthily on her way.

Now Julie perceived that a change had taken place in Lucille--she was
anxious and excited, and appeared morbidly and passionately eager to
share in those amusements which before she had desired with comparative
moderation.

"Julie, I _will_ mix in the world; I _will_ meet people and associate
with my equals--I am resolved upon it. If Monsieur Le Prun persists in
refusing my reasonable wishes, it will perchance be the worse for
himself."

Such sentences she used to utter amidst blushes and pallor, and with a
fire and agitation that painfully perplexed her gentle, but now somewhat
estranged, little companion.

Her conduct, too, became eccentric and capricious; sometimes she
appeared sullen and reserved--sometimes, at moments, as if animated with
a positive hatred of her unoffending companion. Then, again, she would
relent, and, in an agony of compunction, entreat her to be reconciled.

It happened, not unfrequently, that business compelled Monsieur Le Prun
to pass the night from home. Upon one of these occasions Lucille had
gone early to her bed, and old Marguerite, at her special desire, sat
beside her.

"Well, Marguerite," said her young mistress, "I am going to exact the
fulfilment of a promise you made me long ago, when first you came home,
and before you became afraid of Monsieur Le Prun. You told me, then,
that you knew some stories of him--come, what are they?"

"Hey dear, bless the pretty child!--did I though?"

"Yes, yes, Marguerite; and you must tell them now--I say you _must_--I
_will_ have them. Nay, don't be afraid; I'll not tell them again, and
nobody can overhear us here."

"But, my pretty pet, these stories----"

"Then there _are_ stories--see, you can't deny it any longer; tell them,
tell them to me all."

"Why, they are nothing but a pack of nonsense. You would laugh at me. It
is only about monsieur's father, and the wonderful coach they say he
left to his son."

"Well, be it what it may, let me have it."

"Well, then, my pretty bird, you shall have it as they told it to
myself."

She