fluttered around the watering-pot until she withdrew it
from the tank; and, even after her departure, continued to crowd toward
the bank she had touched with her foot.

The young lady watered her flowers and replaced the pot gently on the
ground; then, retiring slowly to the solitary house, she returned after
a while at the same slow pace, and, throwing some crumbs to the fish,
began to saunter slowly about the garden-paths, inattentive to every
thing but her own absorbing thoughts. At length she reached a spot where
a gigantic catalpa-tree overarched the garden and bent its branches
almost to the earth. A table and a couple of chairs stood beneath the
fresh and fragrant shade, and a book, inkstand, and embroidery-frame,
gave token that the retreat had not long been abandoned by the lady
herself. She seated herself in one of the chairs, took up the book, then
the embroidery, let them fall one after another, and finally leaned her
beautiful head on her hand, like one who is weary in spirit and anxious
for rest.

For a while her large dreamy eyes were vaguely fixed, as if gazing into
space; at intervals a smile played around her mouth, and her lips moved
as if talking with a friend. Occasionally her drooping eyelids closed
entirely; but the lashes quickly reopened, only to fall more heavily
than before, till at last a profound sleep or intense reverie seemed to
get possession of her mind and body.

But did she sleep? There is no doubt that her spirit watched and was
happy; for a pleasant expression constantly played over her features,
and, if sometimes it became serious, the joyous look quickly returned
with all its radiance. She had long been plunged by this happy dream
into complete forgetfulness of real life, when a noise of wheels and the
neigh of a horse was heard at the gateway, disturbing the silence of
Grinselhof. Still the maiden was not aroused.

The old _caleche_ returned from the city, drew up near the stable, and
the farmer and his wife ran out to salute their master and put up the
horse. While they were thus engaged, Monsieur De Vlierbeck got out of
the vehicle and spoke to them kindly, but in a voice so full of sadness
that both looked at him with astonishment. In fact, the gravity of this
singular person never abandoned him even in his most affable moods; but
at that moment his physiognomy indicated a degree of intense depression
which was by no means habitual. He seemed altogether worn out with
fatigu