how the travelling English were fewer this year than usual, to the
great detriment of the innkeepers. Every now and then he would say
a word to Marie herself, as she passed near him, speaking in a
cheery tone and striving his best to dispel a black silence which on
the present occasion would have been specially lugubrious. Upon the
whole he did his work well, and Michel Voss was aware of it; but
Marie Bromar entertained no gentle thought respecting him. He was
not wanted there, and he ought not to have come. She had given him
an answer, and he ought to have taken it. Nothing, she declared to
herself, was meaner than a man who would go to a girl's parents or
guardians for support, when the girl herself had told him that she
wished to have nothing to do with him. Marie had promised that she
would try, but every feeling of her heart was against the struggle.

After supper Michel with his young friend sat some time at the
table, for the innkeeper had brought forth a bottle of his best
Burgundy in honour of the occasion. When they had eaten their
fruit, Madame Voss left the room, and Michel and Adrian were soon
alone together. 'Say nothing to her till to-morrow,' said Michel in
a low voice.

'I will not,' said Adrian. 'I do not wonder that she should be put
out of face if she knows why I have come.'

'Of course she knows. Give her to-night and to-morrow, and we will
see how it is to be.' At this time Marie was up-stairs with the
children, resolute that nothing should induce her to go down till
she should be sure that their visitor had gone to his chamber.
There were many things about the house which it was her custom to
see in their place before she went to her rest, and nobody should