“You do not take your wine, Monsieur de Buxieres!” said she, noticing that her guest’s glass was still full.

“I am not much of a wine-drinker,” replied he, “and besides, I never take wine by itself—­I should be obliged if you would have some water brought.”

Reine smiled, and passed him the water-bottle.

“Indeed?” she said, “in that case, you have not fallen among congenial spirits, for in these mountains they like good dinners, and have a special weakness for Burgundy.  You follow the chase, at any rate?”

“No, Mademoiselle, I do not know how to handle a gun!”

“I suppose it is not your intention to settle in Vivey?”

“Why not?” replied he; “on the contrary, I intend to inhabit the chateau, and establish myself there definitely.”

“What!” exclaimed Reine, laughing, “you neither drink nor hunt, and you intend to live in our woods!  Why, my poor Monsieur, you will die of ennui.”

“I shall have my books for companions; besides, solitude never has had any terrors for me.”

The young girl shook her head incredulously.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” she continued, “if you do not even play at cards.”

“Never; games of chance are repugnant to me.”

“Take notice that I do not blame you,” she replied, gayly, “but I must give you one piece of advice:  don’t speak in these neighborhoods of your dislike of hunting, cards, or good wine; our country folk would feel pity for you, and that would destroy your prestige.”

Julien gazed at her with astonishment.  She turned away to give directions to La Guite about the beds for her guests—­then the supper went on silently.  As soon as they had swallowed their last mouthful, the menservants repaired to their dormitory, situated in the buildings of the ancient forge.  Reine Vincart rose also.

“This is the time when I put my father to bed—­I am obliged to take leave of you, Monsieur de Buxieres.  Guitiote will conduct you to your room.  For you, driver, I have had a bed made in a small room next to the furnace; you will be nice and warm.  Good-night, gentlemen, sleep well!”

She turned away, and went to rejoin the paralytic sufferer, who, as she approached, manifested his joy by a succession of inarticulate sounds.

The room to which Guitiote conducted Julien was on the first floor, and had a cheerful, hospitable appearance.  The walls were whitewashed; the chairs, table, and bed were of polished oak; a good fire of logs crackled in the fireplace, and between the opening of the white window-curtains could be seen a slender silver crescent of moon gliding among the flitting clouds.  The young man went at once to his bed; but notwithstanding the fatigues of the day, sleep did not come to him.  Through the partition he could hear the clear, sonorous voice of Reine singing her father to sleep with one of the popular ballads of the country, and while turning and twisting in the homespun linen sheets, scented with orrisroot, he could not help thinking of this young girl, so original in her ways, whose grace, energy, and frankness fascinated and shocked him at the same time.  At last he dozed off; and when the morning stir awoke him, the sun was up and struggling through the foggy atmosphere.