The latter appeared at once upon the threshold of the chapter-hall, converted into a cow-pen, and I had to repeat my request to her.

She examined me in her turn, but not at such great length as her husband, and, with the superior scent of her sex, her conclusion was, as I had the right to expect, that of the _praeses_ in the _Malade Imaginaire_: "_Dignus es intrare_." The miller, who saw what turn things were taking, lifted his cap and treated me to a smile.

I must add that these excellent people, once the ice was broken, tried in every way to compensate me, by a thousand eager attentions, for the excessive caution of their reception.
They wished to give up to me their own room, adorned with the Adventures of Telemachus, but I preferred--as Mentor would have done--a cell of austere nudity, of which the window, with small, lozenge-shaped panes, opens on the ruined portal of the church and the horizon of the forest.
Had I been a few years younger, I would have enjoyed keenly this poetic installation; but I am turning gray, friend Paul, or at least I fear so, though I try still to attribute to a mere effect of light the doubtful shades that dot my beard under the rays of the noon-day sun.

Nevertheless, if my reverie has changed its object, it still lasts, and still has its charms for me.

My poetic feeling has become modified and, I think, more elevated.