"Let us

"Ah! that's the thing: shall we ever, ever, see him again." "Most probably not," said Therese. "If he be the fine gentleman you take him for, depend upon it he is travelling for his amusement, and is far enough off by this time." "Most probably," with another very deep sigh. go in, for it is cold to-night, and very disagreeable here." The sun was approaching the west, upon this loveliest of evenings, and shed his light over the garden in a flood of gold.

She went in-and the listener went home.

CHAPTER IV.

VICTOR TO EUGENE.

SHALL I go to Beaucourt, Eugene? She said-I did not tell you by-the-way, that she would go to Beaucourt, and see Madeleine-shall I go and see her again? I have not told you how she sat in that little alcove of pleached lilac trees: she was in white; her dress folded over her bosom, and her hair in golden ringlets falling round her neck and shoulders; and she sat while she talked to the old woman, her face a little raised, and those beautful tender eyes gazing upward so fervently. No angel, no seraph, had ever an expression more passionate, more inspired! And then, at one moment of the discourse, when the little witch made a sort of accusation against her-oh! to see the ten thousand innocent shames that coursed each other, like flying clouds, over her countenance. Yes, most certainly, I will go to Beaucourt, and try my fortune a little further.

I learned from Pierre the way to Beaucourt, and refusing the offer of a guide, I set forward. My way lay over bare, fantastic hills, commanding, at intervals, fine views of the ocean, spreading under a clear blue sky, and glittering beneath the bright rays of the unclouded sun-yet it was not disagreeably hot, neither; a fresh breeze blew up from the water, giving the most agreeable sensations; the sheep were out upon the hills, the shepherd and his dog basking in the sun; insects busily humming-all nature cheerful and glad. And who so glad as he who with quick steps traversed the hills, his bosom swelling with delight as new as exquisite. At length he ascended a steep hill, and from the summit looked down upon a little hamlet, which he had been taught to consider as Beaucourt.

Such a fairy village!-it lay nestling, as it were, in the hollow of the mountains, in a shallow dell that opened upon the seashore. The small white cottages interspersed with baby pollards, the diminutive gardens, all so neat, and so trim, imbosomed among the green swelling hills that rose precipitately around. A clear brook traversed this village, and went bubbling on to the sea, crossed by a pretty rustic bridge-you never saw a more perfectly Arcadian scene. I am the luckiest fellow in the world, to chance upon such a place for a meeting, a meeting how dear. But I will not anticipate.

Once safely arrived, I began to feel all those little demons of mauvaise honte, bashfulness, irresolution, &c., the destruction of all one's comfort in this world, beginning to make a bustle in my bosom. I thought I should look very foolish walking into Beaucourt without any apparent object; forgetting that I was in the constant habit of taking long rural walks, in all directions, perfectly indifferent how I looked. 1 fancied that she would suspect what brought me there-as if she could by possibility guess that I expected to meet her. However, there was no remedy but to go back, and I would have died rather than have done that; so putting the best face upon the matter, I slowly descended the lane, which led directly into the village.

And now, what was I to do? Who was Madeleine? and where did she live? At what time was mademoiselle likely to visit her, if, indeed, she came at all? Was I to wait here all day, for the chance of what might very probably never happen, that she might actually pay her visit and depart, without my having been aware that she had even entered the place? What way would she come? One might at least discover that, by learning the way to Montalembert.

"Ha! my little girl; which is the nearest way to the Chateau de Montalembert ?"

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Montalembert, monsieur! Mais par le chemin par ou monsieur vient d'arriver. There by that garden, close by Madeleine's cottage; turn to the right, then to the left, then go right forward," &c.

"Madeleine's cottage; you don't say so-which is Madeleine's cottage ?"

"Oh! there, monsieur, everybody asks for Madeleine-and she's no better than the rest of us. Donnez un sol, monsieur, a pauvre fille."

I gave her a couple of francs, at which she stared, and looked excessively delighted, and then I thought I had purchased enough of her precious time, and might fairly question her a little more.

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Well, but who comes to ask for Madeleine ?" "Oh! mademoiselle, and the little one."

"And who is Madeleine ?"

"Don't know-was a servant to Madame de Montalembert, some say-Ne m'y connais pas-but I wish she'd get out of this place then that little one would not come." "And why should not the little one come ?"

The girl looked cautiously round, then came up and whispered,"Heretic, and worse."

"Oh no! monsieur, not that-but-"

"Well, what is she?"

"Oh! monsieur-bien mechant pere-Mais saint vierge! here she is, and the little one close behind her-au revoir, monsieur au revoir"—and she was gone in a moment.

The girl was right, they were certainly coming down the lane, and were nearly close upon us before we perceived them, and I felt as sure as the girl seemed to be, that la petite vielle had made out what we were talking about.

The young lady had a large straw hat, tied over her golden ringlets, with a blue riband, and wore a pretty open walking dress of blue silk over her white petticoat. She was walking pensively along, the little woman close behind her; her eyes being fixed upon the ground, so that she had not perceived us. Not so the eyes of the little one, brisk and bright as those of a small animal, they were glancing every way, and soon fastened upon me with a sharp, interrogative expression. I answered by a steady gaze, and then looked full upon the young lady.

The old woman seemed to understand this dumb language perfectly, and her answer was a half doubtful, half melancholy shake of the head.

This passed in a second, though longer in relating.

The young lady continued to approach; at length lifting up her head, she perceived me just before her. She started and coloured to the eyes, and I fancied, or pretended to fancy, that her footing slipped, so sprang forward, as if to save her from falling.

"Mille remercimens, monsieur-ce n'est rien," recovering herself.

But a basket in which she had some figs had been shaken, and the figs were scattered upon the ground. I stooped eagerly to pick them up for her, and insisted upon replacing them in her basket. I was resolved that I would not be the slave of ceremony; besides we had a partial introduction at the dance-so taking hold of her hand, I released the basket from her grasp, and begged that I might carry it for her where she was going. The action was forward enough, but I took care to throw into it every expression of respect and deference that manner could convey.

"Do let me," fixing my eyes upon her's, " do let me, don't think it impertinent, do let me perform this trifling office for you."

She relinquished her basket, in order that she might liberate her hand, and moved forward, I by her side, at a loss what to say next. At last,

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'May I carry it to Madeleine ?"

"Madeleine! do you know Madeleine ?"

"No, I have only heard that she was ill, and that you were coming to see her; I was here, and I saw you, and • indeed, mademoiselle, do excuse me; you cannot think how ashamed I feel thus to intrude myself upon your presence ; but what can I do? There is no one here from whom I can solicit a proper introduction to you. In so remote a place, surely you will forgive me, if I borrow somewhat of the simplicity around us, and presume to make for myself an introduction so ardently desired."

She looked surprised, confused, as if she did not know what to say to this.

"I most earnestly desire the privilege of making the acquaintance of M. de Montalembert; and if I thought he would allow me, I would do myself the honour of calling upon him to-morrow. I think my father had once the honour of being slightly acquainted with him."

A lie that; but I wished her to understand that I consid ered our respective houses as upon an equality.

“Of what family are you?" eagerly inquired the little bonne, stepping forward.

She had been close behind us all the time, and had heard every word I said.

I told her my name.

"Ah!" with a faint shriek, whether of pleasure or surprise I know not, it seemed mixture of both. "But how

am I to know that is your name?"

"You to know!" I was about to exclaim; however, I contented myself with saying, "Indeed, if you will not believe my assurances, I have no better evidence to give." And turning again to mademoiselle, " May I flatter myself, that M. de Montalembert would receive me?"

"My father sees no company, sir,” in a grave melancholy tone.

"I could scarcely be called company," persisted I, "and unless I am allowed to present myself.... I beg your pardon, you must think me excessively ill bred, but really my desire is so urgent."

I stammered; did not know what to say.

"You will never see Monsieur de Montalembert," said the little woman, abruptly; "he sees no one in the wide world

but as you are here, and if you are sure you are of that house, you may carry the basket to Madeleine for us."

The young lady glanced at her attendant, reproachfully, I thought.

...

"Yes, mademoiselle, why should he not? I know that family well; as honourable a house as any in Auvergne but no matter, he shall go with us to Madeleine." we proceeded to the cottage.

And so

It was a little low-roofed place, containing only one room. On one side was an immense fireplace, in a recess a bed with red checked curtains; a sort of dresser with high shelves of dark wood, occupied one of the walls, on which were arranged sundry plates and dishes of old and very rich china; an ancient carved chest with highly wrought brass handles, &c.; a few tall-backed chairs, and a table or two, completed the furnishing of the apartment.

In a massive armchair, her feet resting upon the rail of another, sat by the embers of a wood fire-Madeleine.

"How are you, dear Madeleine ?" said my angel, in a kind, cheerful voice, as she entered the apartment. "I have brought you a few fresh figs, and I hope that you will be the better for them."

The ancient woman fixed her large gray eyes upon her face. "For all, and everything you bring to me, always the better, my sweet and dear young lady. And how well!" with an expression of great admiration," how well my darling looks to-day! ah! what a fair colour on that pretty face. Do turn to the window, dear, dear young lady; these old eyes grow dim, the evening closes fast around me; I am going to that grave, where so many better than I are gathered; but thou art to me like the sun, when he rises to gladden the earth; thy presence is as the dawning of a better day. I think I see her again, and thou art more like her to-day than

ever.

"But who is he that darkens my threshold, and will not enter? Is he too lofty to bow beneath my humble rooftree? alas! greater than he have sheltered there. Pray walk

in, sir."

The little witch was at my side in a moment; "Why don't you come in, sir ?"

She stepped hastily to Madeleine.

"He says he is of a noble house; he says he is a De Vermont, a De Vermont of Auvergne. Is it not so?" looking at

me.

"Ha!" cried Madeleine, suddenly starting from her halt recumbent posture, and sitting erect in her chair, " Vermont!... let me see him."

a De

The little one pushed me into the broad light; Madeleine took hold of my hand.

"A De Vermont! Do you say you are of that house?" "Yes, he says so," said the little one.