"It is not a question of the little Claire; it is a question of you."

He took me in his arms, as he did the other evening.

"Will you come with me to the little cafe? "

Shuddering and trembling, I found strength to answer :

" I am afraid; I am afraid of you, Joseph. Why am r afraid of you? "

He held me cradled in his arms. And, disdain- ing to justify himself, happy perhaps at increasing my terrors, he said to me, in a paternal tone :

"Well, well, since that is the case, I will talk with you again about it to-morrow."

A Rouen newspaper is circulating in town, in which there is an article that is creating a scandal among the pious. It is a true story, very droll, and somewhat risque, which happened lately at Port- Lan§on, a pretty place situated three leagues from here. And it gains in piquancy from the fact that everybody knows the personages. Here again is something for people to talk about, for a few days. The newspaper was brought to Marianne yesterday, and at night, after dinner, I read the famous article aloud. At the first phrases Joseph rose, with much dignity, very severe and even a little angry. He declared that he does not like dirty stories, and that he cannot sit and listen to attacks on religion.