“Monsieur de Buxieres,” said he, one evening when they were walking silently, side by side, in the avenues of the park, which resounded with the song of the nightingales, “there is one thing that troubles me, and that is that you do not confide in me.”

“What makes you think so, Claudet?” demanded Julien, with surprise.

“Paybleu! the way you act.  You are, if I may say so, too secretive.  When you wanted to make amends for Claude de Buxieres’s negligence, and proposed that I should live here with you, I accepted without any ceremony.  I hoped that in giving me a place at your fire and your table, you would also give me one in your affections, and that you would allow me to share your sorrows, like a true brother comrade—­”

“I assure you, my dear fellow, that you are mistaken.  If I had any serious trouble on my mind, you should be the first to know it.”

“Oh! that’s all very well to say; but you are unhappy all the same—­one can see it in your mien, and shall I tell you the reason?  It is that you are too sedate, Monsieur de Buxieres; you have need of a sweetheart to brighten up your days.”

“Ho, ho!” replied Julien, coloring, “do you wish to have me married, Claudet?”

“Ah! that’s another affair.  No; but still I should like to see you take some interest in a woman—­some gay young person who would rouse you up and make you have a good time.  There is no lack of such in the district, and you would only have the trouble of choosing.”

M. de Buxieres’s color deepened, and he was visibly annoyed.

“That is a singular proposition,” exclaimed he, after awhile; “do you take me for a libertine?”

“Don’t get on your high horse, Monsieur de Buxieres!  There would be no one hurt.  The girls I allude to are not so difficult to approach.”

“That has nothing to do with it, Claudet; I do not enjoy that kind of amusement.”

“It is the kind that young men of our age indulge in, all the same.  Perhaps you think there would be difficulties in the way.  They would not be insurmountable, I can assure you; those matters go smoothly enough here.  You slip your arm round her waist, give her a good, sounding salute, and the acquaintance is begun.  You have only to improve it!”

“Enough of this,” interrupted Julien, harshly, “we never can agree on such topics!”

“As you please, Monsieur de Buxieres; since you do not like the subject, we will not bring it up again.  If I mentioned it at all, it was that I saw you were not interested in either hunting or fishing, and thought you might prefer some other kind of game.  I do wish I knew what to propose that would give you a little pleasure,” continued Claudet, who was profoundly mortified at the ill-success of his overtures.  “Now!  I have it.  Will you come with me to-morrow, to the Ronces woods?  The charcoal-dealers who are constructing their furnaces for the sale, will complete their dwellings this evening