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like search for a master gave him outwardly the air of a king who has
met with his。 This play of feeling； and a general tone of suffering in
the young man's face made it more really beautiful than he was himself
aware of； for he had always been annoyed to find himself classed by
women among the 〃handsome disconsolate；〃a class which has passed out
of fashion in these days； when every man seeks to blow his own trumpet
and put himself in the advance。
The self…distrustful Ernest now rested his immediate hopes on the
fashionable clothes he intended to wear。 He put on； for this sacred
interview； where everything depended on a first impression； a pair of
black trousers and carefully polished boots； a sulphur…colored
waistcoat； which left to sight an exquisitely fine shirt with opal
buttons； a black cravat； and a small blue surtout coat which seemed
glued to his back and shoulders by some newly…invented process。 The
ribbon of the Legion of honor was in his buttonhole。 He wore a well…
fitting pair of kid gloves of the Florentine bronze color； and carried
his cane and hat in the left hand with a gesture and air that was
worthy of the Grand Monarch； and enabled him to show； as the sacred
precincts required； his bare head with the light falling on his
carefully arranged hair。 He stationed himself before the service began
in the church porch； from whence he could examine the church； and the
Christiansmore particularly the female Christianswho dipped their
fingers in the holy water。
An inward voice cried to Modeste as she entered； 〃It is he！〃 That
surtout； and indeed the whole bearing of the young man were
essentially Parisian； the ribbon； the gloves； the cane； the very
perfume of his hair were not of Havre。 So when La Briere turned about
to examine the tall and imposing Madame Latournelle； the notary； and
the bundled…up （expression sacred to women） figure of Modeste； the
poor child； though she had carefully tutored herself for the event；
received a violent blow on her heart when her eyes rested on this
poetic figure； illuminated by the full light of day as it streamed
through the open door。 She could not be mistaken； a small white rose
nearly hid the ribbon of the Legion。 Would he recognize his unknown
mistress muffled in an old bonnet with a double veil？ Modeste was so
in fear of love's clairvoyance that she began to stoop in her walk
like an old woman。
〃Wife；〃 said little Latournelle as they took their seats； 〃that
gentleman does not belong to Havre。〃
〃So many strangers come here；〃 answered his wife。
〃But；〃 said the notary； 〃strangers never come to look at a church like
ours； which is less than two centuries old。〃
Ernest remained in the porch throughout the service without seeing any
woman who realized his hopes。 Modeste； on her part； could not control
the trembling of her limbs until Mass was nearly over。 She was in the
grasp of a joy that none but she herself could depict。 At last she
heard the foot…fall of a gentleman on the pavement of the aisle。 The
service over； La Briere was making a circuit of the church； where no
one now remained but the punctiliously pious； whom he proceeded to
subject to a shrewd and keen analysis。 Ernest noticed that a prayer…
book shook violently in the hands of a veiled woman as he passed her；
as she alone kept her face hidden his suspicions were aroused； and
then confirmed by Modeste's dress； which the lover's eye now scanned
and noted。 He left the church with the Latournelles and followed them
at a distance to the rue Royale； where he saw them enter a house
accompanied by Modeste； whose custom it was to stay with her friends
till the hour of vespers。 After examining the little house； which was
ornamented with scutcheons； he asked the name of the owner； and was
told that he was Monsieur Latournelle； the chief notary in Havre。 As
Ernest lounged along the rue Royale hoping for a glimpse into the
house； Modeste caught sight of him； and thereupon declared herself too
ill to go to vespers。 Poor Ernest thus had his trouble for his pains。
He dared not wander about Ingouville； moreover； he made it a point of
honor to obey orders； and he therefore went back to Paris； previously
writing a letter which Francoise Cochet duly delivered on the morrow
with the Havre postmark。
It was the custom of Monsieur and Madame Latournelle to dine at the
Chalet every Sunday when they brought back Modeste after vespers。 So；
as soon as the invalid felt a little better； they started for
Ingouville； accompanied by Butscha。 Once at home； the happy Modeste
forgot her pretended illness and her disguise； and dressed herself
charmingly； humming as she came down to dinner；
〃Nought is sleepingHeart！ awaking；
Lift thine incense to the skies。〃
Butscha shuddered slightly when he caught sight of her； so changed did
she seem to him。 The wings of love were fastened to her shoulders； she
had the air of a nymph； a Psyche； her cheeks glowed with the divine
color of happiness。
〃Who wrote the words to which you have put that pretty music？〃 asked
her mother。
〃Canalis； mamma；〃 she answered； flushing rosy red from her throat to
her forehead。
〃Canalis！〃 cried the dwarf； to whom the inflections of the girl's
voice and her blush told the only thing of which he was still
ignorant。 〃He； that great poet； does he write songs？〃
〃They are only simple verses；〃 she said； 〃which I have ventured to set
to German airs。〃
〃No； no；〃 interrupted Madame Mignon； 〃the music is your own； my
daughter。〃
Modeste； feeling that she grew more and more crimson； went off into
the garden； calling Butscha after her。
〃You can do me a great service；〃 she said。 〃Dumay is keeping a secret
from my mother and me as to the fortune which my father is bringing
back with him； and I want to know what it is。 Did not Dumay send papa
when he first went away over five hundred thousand francs？ Yes。 Well；
papa is not the kind of man to stay away four years and only double
his capital。 It seems he is coming back on a ship of his own； and
Dumay's share amounts to almost six hundred thousand francs。〃
〃There is no need to question Dumay；〃 said Butscha。 〃Your father lost；
as you know； about four millions when he went away； and he has
doubtless recovered them。 He would of course give Dumay ten per cent
of his profits； the worthy man admitted the other day how much it was；
and my master and I think that in that case the colonel's fortune must
amount to six or seven millions〃
〃Oh； papa！〃 cried Modeste； crossing her hands on her breast and
looking up to heaven； 〃twice you have given me life！〃
〃Ah； mademoiselle！〃 said Butscha； 〃you love a poet。 That kind of man
is more or less of a Narcissus。 Will he know how to love you？ A
phrase…maker； always busy in fitting words together； must be a bore。
Mademoiselle； a poet is no more poetry than a seed is a flower。〃
〃Butscha； I never saw so handsome a man。〃
〃Beauty