"It is not the air," replied Julien, in an irritated tone, "it is the
people who do not agree with me. And, indeed," sighed he, "I do not
think I agree any better with them. But I need not annoy other persons
merely because I am annoyed myself! Mademoiselle Vincart, what can I do
to be of service to you? Have you anything to ask me?"

"Not at all!" exclaimed Reine, with a frank smile; "I not only have
nothing to ask from you, but I have brought something for you--six
hundred francs for wood we had bought from the late Monsieur de Buxieres,
during the sale of the Ronces forest." She drew from under her cloak a
little bag of gray linen, containing gold, five-franc pieces and bank-
notes. "Will you be good enough to verify the amount?" continued she,
emptying the bag upon the table; "I think it is correct. You must have
somewhere a memorandum of the transaction in writing."

Julien began to look through the papers, but he got bewildered with the
number of rough notes jotted down on various slips of paper, until at
last, in an impatient fit of vexation, he flung the whole bundle away,
scattering the loose sheets all over the floor.

"Who can find anything in such a chaos?" he exclaimed. "I can't see my
way through it, and when I try to get information from the people here,
they seem to have an understanding among themselves to leave me under a
wrong impression, or even to make my uncertainties still greater! Ah!
Mademoiselle Reine, you were right! I do not understand the ways of your
country folk. Every now and then I am tempted to leave everything just
as it stands, and get away from this village, where the people mistrust
me and treat me like an enemy!"

Reine gazed at him with a look of compassionate surprise. Stooping