'My faith, curious reason; you say because poor mamma is buried there you
will not approach! Why, cheaile, what would good Monsieur Ruthyn say if
he heard such thing? You are surely not so unkain', and I am with you.
_Allons_. Let us come--even a little part of the way.'

And so I yielded, though still reluctant.

There was a grass-grown road, which we easily reached, leading to the
sombre building, and we soon arrived before it.

Madame de la Rougierre seemed rather curious. She sat down on the little
bank opposite, in her most languid pose--her head leaned upon the tips of
her fingers.

'How very sad--how solemn!' murmured Madame. 'What noble tomb! How triste,
my dear cheaile, your visit 'ere must it be, remembering a so sweet maman.
There is new inscription--is it not new?' And so, indeed, it seemed.

'I am fatigue--maybe you will read it aloud to me slowly and solemnly, my
dearest Maud?'

As I approached, I happened to look, I can't tell why, suddenly, over my
shoulder; I was startled, for Madame was grimacing after me with a vile
derisive distortion. She pretended to be seized with a fit of coughing. But
it would not do: she saw that I had detected her, and she laughed aloud.

'Come here, dear cheaile. I was just reflecting how foolish is all this
thing--the tomb--the epitaph. I think I would 'av none--no, no epitaph. We
regard them first for the oracle of the dead, and find them after only the
folly of the living. So I despise. Do you think your house of Knowl down