She allowed him to conduct her. He showed them into his library, which was
his favourite apartment, the sanctuary of his labours, his griefs and his
dreams. He took some vine-twigs which he threw in the fireplace, and soon a
cheerful flame lighted up the hearth.




XXXVI.


THE HOT WINE.

"I looked at her; she tried to show
nothing of what she felt in her heart.
She held herself straight, like an
oarsman who feels that the current is
carrying him away, and her nostrils
quivered."

CAMILLE LEMONNIER (_Contes flamands et wallons_).

Suzanne was sitting in the old arm-chair of straw, the seat of honour of
the parsonage, her huge dark eyes followed the curling flames, while
Marianne, standing up against one of the sides of the chimney-piece, cast
around her an inquisitive and timorous look. The priest with one knee on
the ground, was drawing up the fire.

--Here is quite a Christmas fire, he said as he got up. Come close,