Julien raised his eyes toward the speaker, coloring with embarrassment to hear himself lectured by this young peasant girl, whose ideas, however, had much more virility than his own.

“You reason like a man, Mademoiselle Vincart,” remarked he, admiringly, “pray, how old are you?”

“Twenty-two years; and you, Monsieur de Buxieres?”

“I shall soon be twenty-eight.”

“There is not much difference between us; still, you are the older, and what I have done, you can do also.”

“Oh!” sighed he, “you have a love of action.  I have a love of repose—­I do not like to act.”

“So much the worse!” replied Reine, very decidedly.  “A man ought to show more energy.  Come now, Monsieur de Buxieres, will you allow me to speak frankly to you?  If you wish people to come to you, you must first get out of yourself and go to seek them; if you expect your neighbor to show confidence and good-will toward you, you must be open and good-natured toward him.”

“That plan has not yet succeeded with two persons around here,” replied Julien, shaking his head.

“Which persons?”

“The Sejournants, mother and son.  I tried to be pleasant with Claudet, and received from both only rebuffs and insolence.”

“Oh! as to Claudet,” resumed she, impulsively, “he is excusable.  You can not expect he will be very gracious in his reception of the person who has supplanted him—­”

“Supplanted?—­I do not understand.”

“What!” exclaimed Reine, “have they not told you anything, then?  That is wrong.  Well, at the risk of meddling in what does not concern me, I think it is better to put you in possession of the facts:  Your deceased cousin never was married, but he had a child all the same—­Claudet is his son, and he intended that he should be his heir also.  Every one around the country knows that, for Monsieur de Buxieres made no secret of it.”

“Claudet, the son of Claude de Buxieres?” ejaculated Julien, with amazement.

“Yes; and if the deceased had had the time to make his will, you would not be here now.  But,” added the young girl, coloring, “don’t tell Claudet I have spoken to you about it.  I have been talking here too long.  Monsieur de Buxieres, will you have the goodness to reckon up your money and give me a receipt?”

She had risen, and Julien gazed wonderingly at the pretty country girl who had shown herself so sensible, so resolute, and so sincere.  He bent his head, collected the money on the table, scribbled hastily a receipt and handed it to Reine.

“Thank you, Mademoiselle,” said he, “you are the first person who has been frank with me, and I am grateful to you for it.”

“Au revoir, Monsieur de Buxieres.”

She had already gained the door while he made an awkward attempt to follow her.  She turned toward him with a smile on her lips and in her eyes.

“Come, take courage!” she added, and then vanished.