will have such a chance at court as my son? He
is noble already through his mother; he will
then be noble also through his wife. Yes,
yes, let that coarse-mannered, passionate, old
soldier-father of hers be as unnaturally
republican as he pleases, he has inherited a
name which will help my son to a peerage!
The VicomteD'Anville (D with an apostrophe,
Dubois, you understand)! The Vicomte
D'Anville—how prettily it sounds!"

"Charmingly, madame—charmingly. Ah!
this second marriage of my young master's
begins under much better auspices than the
first."

The remark was an unfortunate one.
Madame Danville frowned portentously, and rose
in a great hurry from her chair.

"Are your wits failing you, you old fool!"
she exclaimed, indignantly; "what do you
mean by referring to such a subject as that,
on this day of all others?  You are always
harping on those two wretched people who
were guillotined, as if you thought I could
have saved their lives. Were you not present
when my son and I met, after the time of the
Terror? Did you not hear my first words to
him, when he told me of the catastrophe?
Were they not:—'Charles, I love you; but
if I thought you had let those two unfortunates,
who risked themselves to save me, die
without risking your life in return to save
them, I would break my heart, rather than
ever look at you or speak to you again!'—
Did I not say that? And did he not answer:
—'Mother, my life was risked for them. I
proved my devotion by exposing myself to
arrest—I was imprisoned for my exertions,—
and then I could do no more! ' Did you not
stand by, and hear him give that answer,
overwhelmed while he spoke, by generous
emotion? Do you not know that he really
was imprisoned in the Temple? Do you
dare to think that we are to blame after
that? I owe you much, Dubois, but if you
are to take liberties with me—"

"Oh, madame! I beg pardon a thousand
times. I was thoughtless; only
thoughtless—"

"Silence! Is my coach at the door?—
Very well. Get ready to accompany me.
Four master will not have time to return
here. He will meet me, for the signing of
the contract, at General Berthelin's house at
two precisely.—Stop! Are there many
people in the street? I can't be stared at by
the mob, as I go to my carriage."

Dubois hobbled penitently to the window
and looked out, while his mistress walked to
the door.

"The street is almost empty, madame," he
said. "Only a man, with a woman on his
arm, stopping and admiring your carriage.
They seem like decent people, as well as I
can tell, without my spectacles. Not mob, I
should say, madame, certainly not mob!"

"Very well. Attend me down stairs; and
bring some loose silver with you, in case
those two decent people should be fit objects
for charity. No orders for the coachman,
except that he is to go straight to the general's
house."

The party assembled at General Berthelin's
to witness the signature of the marriage-contract,
comprised, besides the persons immediately
interested in the ceremony of the day,
some young ladies, friends of the bride, and a
few officers, who had been comrades of her
father's in past years. The guests were
distributed, rather unequally, in two handsome
apartments opening into each other,—one
called in the house the drawing-room, and
the other the library. In the drawing-room
were assembled the notary, with the contract
ready, the bride, the young ladies, and the
majority of General Berthelin's friends. In
the library, the remainder of the military
guests were amusing themselves at a billiard-table
until the signing of the contract should
take place; while Danville and his future
father-in-law walked up and down the room
together; the first listening absently, the
last talking with all his accustomed energy,
and with more than his accustomed allowance
of barrack-room expletives. The general had
taken it into his head to explain some of the
clauses in the marriage-contract to the
bridegroom, who, though far better acquainted
with their full scope and meaning than his
father-in-law, was obliged to listen for civility's
sake. While the old soldier was still in
the midst of his long and confused harangue,
a clock struck on the library mantelpiece.

"Two o'clock!" exclaimed Danville, glad
of any pretext for interrupting the talk
about the contract. "Two o'clock; and my
mother not here yet! What can be
delaying her?"

"Nothing," cried the general. "When did
you ever know a woman punctual, my lad?
If we wait for your mother—and she's such a
rabid aristocrat that she would never forgive
us for not waiting we shan't sign the contract
yet this half-hour. Never mind! let's
go on with what we were talking about.
Where the devil was I when that cursed
clock struck and interrupted us? Now then,
Black Eyes, what's the matter?"

This last question was addressed to
Mademoiselle Berthelin, who at that moment
hastily entered the library from the drawing-room.
She was a tall and rather masculine-looking
girl, with superb black eyes, dark
hair, growing low on her forehead, and
something of her father's decision and bluntness
in her manner of speaking.

"A stranger in the other room, papa, who
wants to see you. I suppose the servants
showed him up-stairs, thinking he was one of
the guests. Ought I to have had him shown
down again?"

"A nice question! How should I know?
Wait till I have seen him, miss, and then I'll
tell you." With these words the general