“Ah! you have not yet shaken off provincial dust!  Madame George Sand, with that carelessness one almost always finds in great artists, sent to Monsieur Emile de Girardin that enormous packet of four-and-twenty volumes, at the same time authorizing him to retrench at least one-third of the manuscript, if he thought fit.  But Madame de Girardin (who is extremely astute) thought, that, if the work were published without the numerous dull chapters of the first part, it would command too brilliant a success; and Her Most Gracious Majesty determined that the whole four-and-twenty volumes should appear without the omission of a single line,—­which is all the more noble, grand, and generous, as we pay a high price for the ‘copy,’ and it has curtailed our subscription-list a good deal.”

“I thought Madame George Sand and Madame Emile de Girardin were upon the footing of a most affectionate friendship.”

“’Tis a woman’s friendship.  ’Tis a poet’s love for a poet.  Each adores the other; but then what is more vulgar than to love one’s friends when they are successful?  Every hind can do that; while none but delicate and sensitive souls can shed torrents of tears over a friend’s reverses.”

A fortnight after this conversation took place, Madame Emile de Girardin died.  There was a flood of panegyrics and of tears.  Monsieur Paulin Limayrac was chief pall-bearer, and demonstrated in the columns of “La Presse” that Madame Emile de Girardin had herself alone more genius than Sappho, Corinne, Madame de Sevigne, Madame de Stael, and Madame George Sand, all put together.

* * * * *

THE LITTLE COUNTRY-GIRL.

CHAPTER I.

My father’s old friend, Captain Joseph, came down by the morning train, to inquire concerning a will placed in my keeping by Farmer Hill, lately deceased.

This is his first visit since our marriage.

He declares himself perfectly satisfied with—­a certain person, and insists on my revealing the reason, or reasons, of her choosing—­a certain person, when she might, no doubt, have done better.

And he is equally charmed with our locality,—­is glad to find such a paradise.

I like Captain Joseph.  He doesn’t croak.  Some old men would look dismal, and say, perhaps,—­“Happiness is not for earth,” or, “In prosperity prepare for adversity.”  As if anybody could!

“A beautiful spot,” says Captain Joseph.  And truly it is a pleasant place here, close by the sea,—­a place made on purpose to live in.  It is a sort of valley, shut in on the east and on the west by high wooded hills, which stretch far out into the sea, and so make for us a charming little bay.  There are only a few houses here:  the town proper, where I have my law-office, is a mile off.

I found this nook quite accidentally, while sketching the islands off in the harbor, and the water, and the deep shading on the woods beyond.  The people here took me to board.  That was ten years ago.