hundred times related.

He was like a new vase, cracked before it had served its use, and he felt
thoroughly ashamed of the weakness and infirmity of his inner self. Thus
pondering, he traversed much ground, hardly knowing where he was going.
The fog, which now filled the air and which almost hid the trenches with
its thin bluish veil, made it impossible to discover his bearings. At
last he reached the border of some pastureland, which he crossed, and
then he perceived, not many steps away, some buildings with tiled roofs,
which had something familiar to him in their aspect. After he had gone a
few feet farther he recognized the court and facade of La Thuiliere; and,
as he looked over the outer wall, a sight altogether novel and unexpected
presented itself.

Standing in the centre of the courtyard, her outline showing in dark
relief against the light "sugar-frosting," stood Reine Vincart, her back
turned to Julien. She held up a corner of her apron with one hand, and
with the other took out handfuls of grain, which she scattered among the
birds fluttering around her. At each moment the little band was
augmented by a new arrival. All these little creatures were of species
which do not emigrate, but pass the winter in the shelter of the wooded
dells. There were blackbirds with yellow bills, who advanced boldly over
the snow up to the very feet of the distributing fairy; robin redbreasts,
nearly as tame, hopping gayly over the stones, bobbing their heads and
puffing out their red breasts; and tomtits, prudently watching awhile
from the tops of neighboring trees, then suddenly taking flight, and with
quick, sharp cries, seizing the grain on the wing. It was charming to
see all these little hungry creatures career around Reine's head, with a
joyous fluttering of wings. When the supply was exhausted, the young
girl shook her apron, turned around, and recognized Julien.