" It is a rough trade ; all the more reason to take my ease after death., I made friends with one of-the gardeUers in Pere la, Chaise. He showed me the tombs. There is a fine one to two people ; he told me their story. I remember their names, for I said them to myself over and over again—Madame Louise et Monsieur Abeliart. They lived hundreds and hundreds of years ago; they loved each other ; they could not marry, so she became a nun, he became a monk, but after their death there they came together. There they lie like bride and bridegroom, and every one knows their story, and every one tells it. Bah ! In the fosse commune you would lie there, and I would here," making a gesture of his hand in opposite directions, "but in our bit of ground we'd be together, and every one would always know as we were husband and wife."

"That would be -certainly," sa i,j Mere Perrault, softly, a thrill of amazement passing through her frame at these extraor dinary words.
