"The donor thought that open fields and fresh air would be better for the
children."

"Land outside of Paris costs very much less, of course; that is probably
the real reason," said M. Desvanneaux.

"Poor Zibeline! you are well hated!" Madame de Nointel could not help
saying.

"We neither like nor dislike her, Madame. We regard her as indifferently
as we do that," the churchwarden replied, striking down a branch with the
end of his stick, with the superb air of a Tarquin.

Still gesticulating, he continued:

"The dust that she throws in the eyes of others does not blind us, that
is all!"

The metaphor was not exactly happy, for at that instant the unlucky man
received full in his face a broadside of gravel thrown by the hoofs of a
horse which had been frightened by the flourishing stick, and which had
responded to the menace by a violent kick.

This steed was none other than Seaman, ridden by Mademoiselle de Vermont.
She had recognized the Duchess and turned her horse back in order to
offer her excuses for his misconduct, the effects of which Madame
Desvanneaux tried to efface by brushing off the gravel with the corner of
her handkerchief.

"What has happened?" asked General de Prerolles, who at that moment