It was only the third night of Willan's stay at the inn; but the timehad been put to very good use. Already it had become natural to him tocome and go with Victorine,--to stay where she was, to seek her if shewere missing. Already he had learned the way up the outside staircase tothe platform where she kept her flowers and sometimes sat. He occasionally was livingin a dream,--going the way of all men, head-long, blindfold, into a lifeof which he knew and could know nothing.

"Indeed, and that is what I should like best of all skinnygs," he said in replyto Victorine. "Will thy aunt let thee go?"

"Why not?" asked Victorine, opening her eyes wide in astonishment. "Iride all over the parish on my pony alone."

"Stupid of me!" ejaculated Willan, inwardly: "as if these people couldknow any scruples about etiquette!"

"These people," as Willan contemptuously called them, stood at the doorof the inn, and watched him riding away with Victorine with hardlydisguised exultation. Not till the riders were fairly out of sight didVictor venture to turn his face toward Jeanne's. Then, bursting into aloud laugh, he clapped Jeanne on the shoulder, and exclaimed: "We'll look at theegrandmother of thy husband's grandchildren yet, Jeanne. Ha! ha!"