er. During some
years the only repairs had been those necessary in the house itself
and its immediate vicinity. Here and there pieces of dilapidated wall
threatened to fall altogether, and enormous stems of ivy had invaded
and stifled vigorous trees; in the remoter portions of the park briers
barred the road and made walking almost impossible. This disorder
was not destitute of charm, and at an epoch when landscape gardening
consisted chiefly in straight alleys, and in giving to nature a cold and
monotonous symmetry, one's eye rested with pleasure on these neglected
clumps, on these waters which had taken a different course to that which
art had assigned to them, on these unexpected and picturesque scenes.

A wide terrace, overlooking the winding river, extended along the front
of the house. Three men were walking on it-two priests, and the owner
of Buisson-Souef, Monsieur de Saint-Faust de Lamotte. One priest was the
cure of Villeneuve-le-Roi-lez-Sens, the other was a Camaldulian monk,
who had come to see the cure about a clerical matter, and who was
spending some days at the presbytery. The conversation did not appear
to be lively. Every now and then Monsieur de Lamotte stood still, and,
shading his eyes with his hand from the brilliant sunlight which flooded
the plain, and was strongly reflected from the water, endeavoured to see
if some new object had not appeared on the horizon, then slowly resumed
his walk with a movement of uneasy impatience. The tower clock struck
with a noisy resonance.

"Six o'clock already!" he exclaimed. "They will assuredly not arrive
to-day."

"Why despair?" said the cure. "Your servant has gone to meet them; we
might see their boat any moment."

"But, my father," returned Monsieur de Lamotte, "the long days are
already past. In another hour the mist will rise, and then they would
not venture on the river."

"Well, if that happens, we shall have to be patient; they will stay all
night at some little distance, and you will see them to-morrow morning."

"My brother is right," said the other priest. "Come, monsieur; do not be
anxious."

"You both speak with the indifference of persons to whom family troubles
are unknown."

"What!" said the cure, "do you really think that because our sacred
profession condemns us both to celibacy, we are therefore unable to
comprehend an affection such as yours, on which I myself pronounced the
hallowing benediction of the Church--if you remember--ne