h a solemn form of introduction, adding, for the
benefit of both parties, "You must try to like each other for my sake."

"He is very pretty," said Anastasie.--"Will you kiss me, my pretty little
fellow?"

The Doctor was furious, and dragged her into the passage. "Are you a
fool, Anastasie?" he said. "What is all this I hear about the tact of
women? Heaven knows, I have not met with it in my experience. You address
my little philosopher as if he were an infant. He must be spoken to with
more respect, I tell you; he must not be kissed and Georgy-porgy'd like
an ordinary child."

"I only did it to please you, I am sure," replied Anastasie; "but I will
try to do better."

The Doctor apologised for his warmth. "But I do wish him," he continued,
"to feel at home among us. And really your conduct was so idiotic, my
cherished one, and so utterly and distantly out of place, that a saint
might have been pardoned a little vehemence in disapproval. Do, do
try--if it is possible for a woman to understand young people--but of
course it is not, and I waste my breath. Hold your tongue as much as
possible at least, and observe my conduct narrowly; it will serve you for
a model."

Anastasie did as she was bidden, and considered the Doctor's behaviour.
She observed that he embraced the boy three times in the course of the
evening, and managed generally to confound and abash the little fellow
out of speech and appetite. But she had the true womanly heroism in
little affairs. Not only did she refrain from the cheap revenge of
exposing the Doctor's errors to himself, but she did her best to remove
their ill-effect on Jean-Marie. When Desprez went out for his last breath
of air before retiring for the night, she came over to the boy's side and
took his hand.

"You must not be surprised or frightened by my husband's manners," she
said. "He is the kindest of men, but so clever that he is sometimes
difficult to understand. You will soon grow used to him, and then you
will love him, for that nobody can help. As for me, you may be sure, I
shall try to make you happy, and will not bother you at all. I think we
should be excellent friends, you and I. I am not clever, but I am very
good-natured. Will you give me a kiss?"

He held up his face, and she took him in her arms and then began to cry.
The woman had spoken in complaisance; but she had warmed to her own
words, and tenderness followed. The Doctor, entering, found them enlaced:
he conc