"Yes, father," replied Huriel, "if I were sure it was he; but it may be some one else, and the bunch may be intended for Thérence." I remarked that no one knew Thérence or had even seen her, and looking closer at the flowers I saw that a mass of white pond-lilies had been freshly gathered and tied in bunches, and I remembered that these plants were not common in the neighborhood and grew only in the Lajon, on the banks of which I had found Joseph lying. No doubt, instead of going to Saint-Chartier he had returned upon his steps; and he must even have waded into the water on the shifting sand of the pond, which is dangerous, before he could gather such an armful. "Well, the battle has begun," said Huriel, sighing, as he fastened his May-bunch to the door with an anxious look that seemed to me very modest, for he might well have felt sure of success and feared no one. I wished I could feel as certain of his sister, and I hung up my cherry-bough with a beating heart, as if she were just behind the door all ready to fling it in my face. And pale I was when the door opened; but it was Brulette who came first, and gave a kiss for good-morning to Père Bastien, a hand-shake to me, and a rosy blush of pleasure to Huriel, though she did not venture to speak to him. "Oh, father!" cried Thérence, following her and clasping the Head-Woodsman in her arms; "have you been playing the young man all night? Come, come in, and let me give you some breakfast. But first, let me look at those nosegays. Three, Brulette! oh, what a girl you are! is the procession to last all day?" "Only two for Brulette," said Huriel; "the third is for you, sister;" and he gave her my cherry-bough, so full of bloom that it had rained a white shower all round the door. "For me?" said Thérence, surprised. "Then you did it, brother, to prevent my being jealous of Brulette?" "Brothers are not so gallant," said Père Bastien. "Have you no suspicion of a timid and discreet lover who keeps his mouth shut instead of declaring himself?" Thérence looked all round her as if she were trying to see some one beside me, and when at last her black eyes rested on my discomfited and idiotic face I thought she was going to laugh, which would have stabbed me to the heart. But she did nothing of the kind, and even blushed a little. Then, holding out her hand she said: "Thank you, Tiennet; you have shown that you remember me, and I accept the gift without giving it other meaning than belongs to a nosegay." "Well," said Père Bastien, "if you accept it, my daughter, you must follow the usual custom, and fasten a spray of it to your coif." "No," said Thérence, "that might displease some of the girls hereabouts, and I don't want my good Tiennet to repent of having done me a kindness." "Oh, that won't displease anybody," I cried; "if it does not annoy you, it would hugely please me."