complexion grew more and more livid, and then purple, as if some great effect were produced on his circulation by the news he had just heard.  Pierre was so startled by his cousin’s wandering, senseless eyes, and otherwise disordered looks, that he rushed into a neighbouring cabaret for a glass of absinthe, which he paid for, as he recollected afterwards, with a portion of Virginie’s five francs.  By-and-by Morin recovered his natural appearance; but he was gloomy and silent; and all that Pierre could get out of him was, that the Norman farmer should not sleep another night at the Hotel Duguesclin, giving him such opportunities of passing and repassing by the conciergerie door.  He was too much absorbed in his own thoughts to repay Pierre the half franc he had spent on the absinthe, which Pierre perceived, and seems to have noted down in the ledger of his mind as on Virginie’s balance of favour.

“Altogether, he was much disappointed at his cousin’s mode of receiving intelligence, which the lad thought worth another five-franc piece at least; or, if not paid for in money, to be paid for in open-mouthed confidence and expression of feeling, that he was, for a time, so far a partisan of Virginie’s—­unconscious Virginie—­against his cousin, as to feel regret when the Norman returned no more to his night’s lodging, and when Virginie’s eager watch at the crevice of the closely-drawn blind ended only with a sigh of disappointment.  If it had not been for his mother’s presence at the time, Pierre thought he should have told her all.  But how far was his mother in his cousin’s confidence as regarded the dismissal of the Norman?

“In a few days, however, Pierre felt almost sure that they had established some new means of communication.  Virginie went out for a short time every day; but though Pierre followed her as closely as he could without exciting her observation, he was unable to discover what kind of intercourse she held with the Norman.  She went, in general, the same short round among the little shops in the neighbourhood; not entering any, but stopping at two or three.  Pierre afterwards remembered that she had invariably paused at the nosegays displayed in a certain window, and studied them long:  but, then, she stopped and looked at caps, hats, fashions, confectionery (all of the humble kind common in that quarter), so how should he have known that any particular attraction existed among the flowers?  Morin came more regularly than ever to his aunt’s; but Virginie was apparently unconscious that she was the attraction.  She looked healthier and more hopeful than she had done for months, and her manners to all were gentler and not so reserved.  Almost as if she wished to manifest her gratitude to Madame Babette for her long continuance of kindness, the necessity for which was nearly ended, Virginie showed an unusual alacrity in rendering the old woman any little service in her power, and evidently tried to respond to Monsieur Morin’s