on his arm; his walk, his clothes, even the tap of his boots on the pavement, seemed to me so charming.  The least little thing about him—­his hand with the delicate glove—­acted like a spell upon me; and yet I had strength enough not to think of him during mass.  When the service was over I stayed in the church to let Madame de Portenduere go first, and then I walked behind him.  I couldn’t tell you how these little things excited me.  When I reached home, I turned round to fasten the iron gate—­”

“Where was La Bougival?” asked the doctor.

“Oh, I let her go to the kitchen,” said Ursula simply.  “Then I saw Monsieur Savinien standing quite still and looking at me.  Oh! godfather, I was so proud, for I thought I saw a look in his eyes of surprise and admiration—­I don’t know what I would not do to make him look at me again like that.  It seemed to me I ought to think of nothing forevermore but pleasing him.  That glance is now the best reward I have for any good I do.  From that moment I have thought of him incessantly, in spite of myself.  Monsieur Savinien went back to Paris that evening, and I have not seen him since.  The street seems empty; he took my heart away with him—­but he does not know it.”

“Is that all?” asked the old man.

“All, dear godfather,” she said, with a sigh of regret that there was not more to tell.

“My little girl,” said the doctor, putting her on his knee; “you are nearly sixteen and your womanhood is beginning.  You are now between your blessed childhood, which is ending, and the emotions of love, which will make your life a tumultuous one; for you have a nervous system of exquisite sensibility.  What has happened to you, my child, is love,” said the old man with an expression of deepest sadness, —­“love in its holy simplicity; love as it ought to be; involuntary, sudden, coming like a thief who takes all—­yes, all!  I expected it.  I have studied women; many need proofs and miracles of affection before love conquers them; but others there are, under the influence of sympathies explainable to-day by magnetic fluids, who are possessed by it in an instant.  To you I can now tell all—­as soon as I saw the charming woman whose name you bear, I felt that I should love her forever, solely and faithfully, without knowing whether our characters or persons suited each other.  Is there a second-sight in love?  What answer can I give to that, I who have seen so many unions formed under celestial auspices only to be ruptured later, giving rise to hatreds that are well-nigh eternal, to repugnances that are unconquerable.  The senses sometimes harmonize while ideas are at variance; and some persons live more by their minds than by their bodies.  The contrary is also true; often minds agree and persons displease.  These phenomena, the varying and secret cause of many sorrows, show the wisdom of laws which give parents supreme power over the marriages of their children; for a young girl is often duped by one or