her countenance, although her cheeks
were of a deep rose colour; her eyes, too, seem to me to have a
brilliancy which betokens a feverish system. Great care must be taken of
her."

"Rely on me, M. Rodolph; but, thank God! there is nothing serious to
apprehend. At her age, in the country, with pure air, rest, and quiet,
she will soon be quite restored."

"I hope so; but I will not trust to your country doctors. I will desire
Murphy to bring here my medical man,--a negro,--a very skilful person,
who will tell you the best regimen to pursue. You must send me news of
Marie very often. Some time hence, when she shall be better, and more at
ease, we will talk about her future life; perhaps it would be best that
she always remained with you, if you were pleased with her."

"I should like it greatly, M. Rodolph; she would supply the place of the
child I have lost, and must for ever bewail."

"Let us still hope for you and for her."

At the moment when Rodolph and Madame Georges approached the farm,
Murphy and Marie also entered. The worthy gentleman let go the arm of
Goualeuse, and said to Rodolph in a low voice, and with an air of some
confusion:

"This girl has bewitched me; I really do not know which interests me
most, she or Madame Georges. I was a brute--a beast!"

"I knew, old Murphy, that you would do justice to my protegee," said
Rodolph, smiling, and shaking hands with the squire.

Madame Georges, leaning on Marie's arm, entered with her into a small
room on the ground floor, where the Abbe Laporte was waiting. Murphy
went away, to see all ready for their departure. Madame Georges, Marie,
Rodolph, and the cure remained together.

Plain, but very comfortable, this small apartment was fitted up with
green hangings, like the rest of the house, as had been exactly
described to Goualeuse by Rodolph. A thick carpet covered the floor, a
good fire burnt in the grate, and two large nosegays of daisies of all
colours, placed in two crystal vases, shed their agreeable odour
throughout the room. Through the windows, with their green blinds, which
were half opened, was to be seen the meadow, the little stream, and,
beyond it, the bank planted with chestnut-trees.

The Abbe Laporte, who was seated near the fireplace, was upwards of
eighty years of age, and had, ever since the last days of the
Revolution, done duty in this small parish. Nothing can be imagined more
venerable than his aged, withered, and somewhat melancho