"I beg your pardon, madame," Rose began
tremulously; "I only meant—"

"My dear child, have you so little
knowledge of the world as to suppose that I could
be offended —"

"Let Rose speak," said the young man. He
turned round petulantly, almost with the air
of a spoilt child, to his mother, as he said
those words. She had been looking fondly
and proudly on him the moment before. Now
her eyes wandered disconcertedly from his
face; she hesitated an instant with a sudden
confusion which seemed quite foreign to her
character, then whispered in his ear:

"Am I to blame, Charles, for trying to
make her worthy of you?"

Her son took no notice of the question. He
only reiterated sharply,— "Let Rose speak."

"I really had nothing to say," faltered the
young girl, growing more and more confused.

"Oh, but you had!"

There was such an ungracious sharpness in
his voice, such an outburst of petulance in his
manner, as he spoke, that his mother gave
him a warning touch on the arm, and
whispered "Hush!"

Monsieur Lomaque, the land-steward, and
Monsieur Trudaine, the brother, both glanced
searchingly at the bride, as the words passed
the bridegroom's lips. She seemed to be
frightened and astonished, rather than irritated
or hurt. A curious smile puckered up
Lomaque's lean face, as he looked demurely
down on the ground, and began drilling a
fresh hole in the turf with the sharp point of
his cane. Trudaine turned aside quickly,
and, sighing, walked away a few paces; then
came back, and seemed about to speak, but
Danville interrupted him.

"Pardon me, Rose," he said; "I am so
jealous of even the appearance of any want
of attention towards you, that I was nearly
allowing myself to be irritated about nothing."

He kissed her hand very gracefully and
tenderly as he made his excuse; but there was a
latent expression in his eye which was at
variance with the apparent spirit of his
action. It was noticed by nobody but observant
and submissive Monsieur Lomaque, who
smiled to himself again, and drilled harder
than ever at his hole in the grass.

"I think Monsieur Trudaine was about to
speak," said Madame Danville. "Perhaps he
will have no objection to let us hear what he
was going to say."

"None, madame," replied Trudaine politely.
"I was about to take upon myself the blame
of Rose's want of respect for believers in
omens, by confessing that I have always
encouraged her to laugh at superstitions of
every kind.

"You a ridiculer of superstitious," said
Danville, turning quickly on him. "You who
have built a laboratory; you who are an
amateur professor of the occult arts of
chemistry, a seeker after the Elixir of Life.
On my word of honour, you astonish me!"

There was an ironical politeness in his voice,
look, and manner, as he said this, which his
mother and his land-steward, Monsieur
Lomaque, evidently knew how to interpret. The
first touched his arm again, and whispered "Be
careful!" the second suddenly grew serious,
and left off drilling his hole in the grass. Rose
neither heard the warning of Madame Danville,
nor noticed the alteration in Lomaque. She was
looking round at her brother, and was waiting
with a bright affectionate smile to hear his
answer. He nodded, as if to re-assure her,
before he spoke again to Danville.

"You have rather romantic ideas about
experiments in chemistry," he said quietly.
"Mine have so little connection with what
you call the occult arts, that all the world
might see them, if all the world thought it
worth while. The only Elixirs of Life that I
know of, are a quiet heart and a contented
mind. Both those I found, years and years
ago, when Rose and I first came to live
together in the house yonder."

He spoke with a quiet sadness in his voice,
which meant far more to his sister than the
simple words he uttered. Her eyes filled
with tears: she turned for a moment from
her lover, and took her brother's hand.
"Don't talk, Louis, as if you thought you
were going to lose your sister, because—"
Her lip began to tremble, and she stopped
suddenly.

"More jealous than ever of your taking
her away from him!" whispered Madame
Danville in her son's ear. "Hush! don't, for
God's sake, take any notice of it," she added
hurriedly, as he rose from the seat, and faced
Trudaine with undisguised irritation and
impatience in his manner. Before he could
speak, the old servant, Guillaume, made his
appearance, and announced that coffee was
ready. Madame Danville again said "Hush!"
and quickly took one of his arms, while he
offered the other to Rose. "Charles!" said
the young girl, amazedly, " how flushed your
face is, and how your arm trembles!"

He controlled himself in a moment, smiled,
and said to her, "Can't you guess why, Rose?
I am thinking of to-morrow." While he was
speaking, he passed close by the land-steward,
on his way back to the house with the ladies.
The smile returned to Monsieur Lomaque's
lean face, and a curious light twinkled in his
red-rimmed eyes, as he began a fresh hole in.
the grass.

"Won't you go in-doors, and take some
coffee?" asked Trudaine, touching the land-
steward on the arm.

Monsieur Lomaque started a little, and left
his cane sticking in the ground: "A thousand
thanks, monsieur," he said; "may I be allowed
to follow you?"

"I confess the beauty of the evening makes
me a little unwilling to leave this place just
yet."

"Ah! the beauties of nature—I feel them with,
you, Monsieur Trudaine: I feel them here."