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ill；　you　are　seen　going　off　by　railway　perfectly　well。'

'That's　a　contingency　which　I　am　quite　willing　to　run　the　risk
of。　　Well；　it　would　be　rather　sudden；　as　you　say；　to　go　to…
night。　　But　we'll　go　to…morrow　night　at　latest。'　　Under　the
influence　of　the　decision　she　bounded　up　like　an　elastic　ball
and　went　to　the　glass；　which　showed　a　light　in　her　eye　that
had　not　been　there　before　this　resolution　to　travel　in
Normandy　had　been　taken。

The　evening　and　the　next　morning　were　passed　in　writing　a
final　and　kindly　note　of　dismissal　to　Sir　William　De　Stancy；
in　making　arrangements　for　the　journey；　and　in　commissioning
Havill　to　take　advantage　of　their　absence　by　emptying　certain
rooms　of　their　furniture；　and　repairing　their　dilapidationsa
work　which；　with　that　in　hand；　would　complete　the　section　for
which　he　had　been　engaged。　　Mr。　Wardlaw　had　left　the　castle；
so　also　had　Charlotte；　by　her　own　wish；　her　residence　there
having　been　found　too　oppressive　to　herself　to　be　continued
for　the　present。　　Accompanied　by　Mrs。　Goodman；　Milly；　and
Clementine；　the　elderly　French　maid；　who　still　remained　with
them；　Paula　drove　into　Markton　in　the　twilight　and　took　the
train　to　Budmouth。

When　they　got　there　they　found　that　an　unpleasant　breeze　was
blowing　out　at　sea；　though　inland　it　had　been　calm　enough。
Mrs。　Goodman　proposed　to　stay　at　Budmouth　till　the　next　day；
in　hope　that　there　might　be　smooth　water；　but　an　English
seaport　inn　being　a　thing　that　Paula　disliked　more　than　a
rough　passage；　she　would　not　listen　to　this　counsel。　　Other
impatient　reasons；　too；　might　have　weighed　with　her。　　When
night　came　their　looming　miseries　began。　　Paula　found　that　in
addition　to　her　own　troubles　she　had　those　of　three　other
people　to　support；　but　she　did　not　audibly　complain。

'Paula；　Paula；'　said　Mrs。　Goodman　from　beneath　her　load　of
wretchedness；　'why　did　we　think　of　undergoing　this？'

A　slight　gleam　of　humour　crossed　Paula's　not　particularly
blooming　face；　as　she　answered；　'Ah；　why　indeed？'

'What　is　the　real　reason；　my　dear？　　For　God's　sake　tell　me！'

'It　begins　with　S。'

'Well；　I　would　do　anything　for　that　young　man　short　of
personal　martyrdom；　but　really　when　it　comes　to　that'

'Don't　criticize　me；　auntie；　and　I　won't　criticize　you。'

'Well；　I　am　open　to　criticism　just　now；　I　am　sure；'　said　her
aunt；　with　a　green　smile；　and　speech　was　again　discontinued。

The　morning　was　bright　and　beautiful；　and　it　could　again　be
seen　in　Paula's　looks　that　she　was　glad　she　had　come；　though；
in　taking　their　rest　at　Cherbourg；　fate　consigned　them　to　an
hotel　breathing　an　atmosphere　that　seemed　specially　compounded
for　depressing　the　spirits　of　a　young　woman；　indeed　nothing
had　particularly　encouraged　her　thus　far　in　her　somewhat
peculiar　scheme　of　searching　out　and　expressing　sorrow　to　a
gentleman　for　having　believed　those　who　traduced　him；　and　this
coup　d'audace　to　which　she　had　committed　herself　began　to　look
somewhat　formidable。　　When　in　England　the　plan　of　following
him　to　Normandy　had　suggested　itself　as　the　quickest；
sweetest；　and　most　honest　way　of　making　amends；　but　having
arrived　there　she　seemed　further　off　from　his　sphere　of
existence　than　when　she　had　been　at　Stancy　Castle。　　Virtually
she　was；　for　if　he　thought　of　her　at　all；　he　probably　thought
of　her　there；　if　he　sought　her　he　would　seek　her　there。
However；　as　he　would　probably　never　do　the　latter；　it　was
necessary　to　go　on。　　It　had　been　her　sudden　dream　before
starting；　to　light　accidentally　upon　him　in　some　romantic　old
town　of　this　romantic　old　province；　but　she　had　become　aware
that　the　recorded　fortune　of　lovers　in　that　respect　was　not　to
be　trusted　too　implicitly。

Somerset's　search　for　her　in　the　south　was　now　inversely
imitated。　　By　diligent　inquiry　in　Cherbourg　during　the　gloom
of　evening；　in　the　disguise　of　a　hooded　cloak；　she　learnt　out
the　place　of　his　stay　while　there；　and　that　he　had　gone　thence
to　Lisieux。　　What　she　knew　of　the　architectural　character　of
Lisieux　half　guaranteed　the　truth　of　the　information。　　Without
telling　her　aunt　of　this　discovery　she　announced　to　that　lady
that　it　was　her　great　wish　to　go　on　and　see　the　beauties　of
Lisieux。

But　though　her　aunt　was　simple；　there　were　bounds　to　her
simplicity。　　'Paula；'　she　said；　with　an　undeceivable　air；　'I
don't　think　you　should　run　after　a　young　man　like　this。
Suppose　he　shouldn't　care　for　you　by　this　time。'

It　was　no　occasion　for　further　affectation。　　'I　am　SURE　he
will；'　answered　her　niece　flatly。　　'I　have　not　the　least　fear
about　itnor　would　you；　if　you　knew　how　he　is。　　He　will
forgive　me　anything。'

'Well；　pray　don't　show　yourself　forward。　　Some　people　are　apt
to　fly　into　extremes。'

Paula　blushed　a　trifle；　and　reflected；　and　made　no　answer。
However；　her　purpose　seemed　not　to　be　permanently　affected；
for　the　next　morning　she　was　up　betimes　and　preparing　to
depart；　and　they　proceeded　almost　without　stopping　to　the
architectural　curiosity…town　which　had　so　quickly　interested
her。　　Nevertheless　her　ardent　manner　of　yesterday　underwent　a
considerable　change；　as　if　she　had　a　fear　that；　as　her　aunt
suggested；　in　her　endeavour　to　make　amends　for　cruel
injustice；　she　was　allowing　herself　to　be　carried　too　far。

On　nearing　the　place　she　said；　'Aunt；　I　think　you　had　better
call　upon　him；　and　you　need　not　tell　him　we　have　come　on
purpose。　　Let　him　think；　if　he　will；　that　we　heard　he　was
here；　and　would　not　leave　without　seeing　him。　　You　can　also
tell　him　that　I　am　anxious　to　clear　up　a　misunderstanding；　and
ask　him　to　call　at　our　hotel。'

But　as　she　looked　over　the　dreary　suburban　erections　which
lined　the　road　from　the　railway　to　the　old　quarter　of　the
town；　it　occurred　to　her　that　Somerset　would　at　that　time　of
day　be　engaged　in　one　or　other　of　the　mediaeval　buildings
thereabout；　and　that　it　would　be　a　much　neater　thing　to　meet
him　as　if　by　chance　in　one　of　these　edifices　than　to　call　upon
him　anywhere。　　Instead　of　putting　up　at　any　hotel；　they　left
the　maids　and　baggage　at　the　station；　and　hiring　a　carriage；
Paula　told　the　coachman　to　drive　them　to　such　likely　places　as
she　could　think　of。

'He'll　never　forgive　you；'　said　her　aunt；　as　they　rumbled　into
the　town。

'Won't　he？'　said　Paula；　with　soft　faith。　　'I'll　see　about
that。'

'What　are　you　going　to　do　when　you　find　him？　　Tell　him　point…
blank　that　you　are　in　love　with　him？'

'Act　in　such　a　manner　that　he　may　tell　me　he　is　in　love　with
me。'

They　first　visited　a　large　church　at　the　upper　end　of　a　square
that　sloped　its　gravelled　surface　to　the　western　shine；　and
was　pricked　out　with　little　avenues　of　young　pollard　limes。
The　church　within　was　one　to　make　any　Gothic　architect　take
lodgings　in　its　vicinity　for　a　fortnight；　though　it　was　just
now　crowded　with　a　forest　of　scaffolding　for　repairs　in
progress。　　Mrs。　Goodman　sat　down　outside；　and　Paula；　entering；
took　a　walk　in　the　form　of　a　horse…shoe；　that　is；　up　the　south
aisle；　round　the　apse；　and　down　the　north　side；　but　no　figure
of　a　melancholy　young　man　sketching　met　her　eye　anywhere。　　The
sun　that　blazed　in　at　the　west　doorway　smote　her　face　as　she
emerged　from　beneath　it　and　revealed　real　sadness　there。

'This　is　not　all　the　old　architecture　of　the　town　by　far；'　she
said　to　her　aunt　with　an　air　of　confidence。　　'Coachman；　drive
to　St。　Jacques'。'

He　was　not　at　St。　Jacques'。　　Looking　from　the　west　end　of　that
building　the　girl　observed　the　end　of　a　steep　narrow　street　of
antique　character；　which　seemed　a　likely　haunt。　　Beckoning　to
her　aunt　to　follow　in　the　fly　Paula　walked　down　the　street。

She　was　transported　to　the　Middle　Ages。　　It　contained　the
shops　of　tinkers；　braziers；　bellows…menders；　hollow…turners；
and　other　quaintest　trades；　their　fronts　open　to　the　street
beneath　stories　of　timber　overhanging　so　far　on　each　side　that
a　slit　of　sky　was　left　at　the　top　for　the　light　to　descend；
and　no　more。　　A　blue　misty　obscurity　pervaded　the　atmosphere；
into　which　the　sun　thrust　oblique　staves　of　light。　　It　was　a
street　for　a　mediaevalist　to　revel　in；　toss　up　his　hat　and
shout　hurrah　in；　send　for　his　luggage；　come　and　live　in；　die
and　be　buried　in。　　She　had　never　supposed　such　a　street　to
exist　outside　the　imaginations　of　antiquarians。　　Smells　direct
from　the　sixteenth　century　hung　in　the　air　in　all　their
original　integrity　and　without　a　modern　taint。　　The　faces　of
the　people　in　the　doorways　seemed　those　of　individuals　who
habitually　gazed　on　the　great　Francis；　and　spoke　of　Henry　the
Eighth　as　the　king　across　the　sea。

She　inquired　of　a　coppersmith　if　an　English　artist　had　been
seen　here　lately。　　With　a　suddenness　that　almost　discomfited
her　he　announced　that　such　a　man　had　been　seen；　sketching　a
house　just　belowthe　'Vieux　Manoir　de　Francois　premier。'
Just　turning　to　see　that　her　aunt　was　following　in　the　fly；
Paula　advanced　to　the　house。　　The　wood　framework　of　the　lower
story　was　black　and　varnished；　the　upper　story　was　brown　and
not　varnished；　carved　figures　of　dragons；　griffins；　satyrs；
and　mermaids　swarmed　over　the　front；　an　ape　stealing　apples
was　the　subject　of　this　cantilever；　a　man　undressing　of　that。
These　figures　were　cloaked　with　little　cobwebs　which　waved