"You have talked enough; bid your friend adieu, it is time to separate." Thereupon Ambroisine would leave her young friend; but all that she had heard furnished Bathilde with food for thought for many days. V AN OLD MANSION.--AN OLD NOBLE Alone in a large and handsome room, richly furnished, the hangings of which, however, were very old and seemed to denote, on the part of the proprietors, a profound respect for whatever had belonged to their ancestors, an old man sat in an enormous easy-chair, whose carved and gilded frame seemed as ancient as the hangings, before a desk on which lay several boxes, books, and papers, which he was apparently engaged in examining with care. Sometimes he paused in his labors; his brow was clouded, his expression stern, and a deep sigh escaped from his breast. The Marquis de Marvejols was at this time nearly seventy years of age. He was a tall, spare man, who still carried his head erect, whose gait was firm and his grasp strong, while his proud and assured bearing would have held in respect anyone who should attempt to impose upon him. The old man's face was handsome, although severe. His white hair left bare a large part of his forehead, on which could be seen a scar caused by a blow from a lance; his moustaches and his beard, also snow-white, harmonized well with that martial countenance, which seemed to defy all dangers; and if the old marquis's keen gray eyes ordinarily wore a haughty expression that inspired fear rather than confidence, on the other hand, the extreme urbanity of his manners soon made one forget the stern and imposing effect of his general appearance. Knee-breeches and doublet of violet velvet, a leather belt, a very high ruff, funnel-shaped top-boots, with spurs attached--such was the old man's costume, which had something military about it. Over all this he wore a long cloak, trimmed with ermine, which descended almost to his spurs. Pushing aside with an angry gesture the papers he had been examining, Monsieur de Marvejols threw himself back in his chair, and turned his eyes upon several large portraits which hung on the walls. Two represented cavaliers with helmets on their heads, and their hands on their swords; a third was that of a young man wearing the little cap in vogue in the time of Henri III; and the fourth was the portrait of a young and lovely woman with a little boy on her knees. In the immense apartments of olden time, space was not spared; people were not shut up, as we are to-day, in the foul atmosphere of rooms six and a half feet in height; the lungs had an opportunity to do their work freely and the chest must have been in much better case. In those days, it was easy to find room in a salon for those huge full-length portraits, which are ordinarily larger than life. Indeed, one sometimes saw them hung in two rows, and the furniture never reached to the frames.