der, and admire these objects, the
marquise entered.

A tall and stately old lady, with an air at once haughty and gracious,
received me with a profound curtsy, while she extended her hand to the
salute of the general She was dressed in deep mourning, and wore
her white hair in two braids along her face. The sound of my native
language, with its native accent, made me forget the almost profound
reserve of her manner, and I was fast recovering from the constraint her
coldness imposed, when her niece entered the room. Mademoiselle, who was
at that time about seventeen, but looked older by a year or two, was the
very ideal of brunette beauty; she was dark-eyed and black-haired, with
a mouth the most beautifully formed; her figure was light, and her foot
a model of shape and symmetry. All this I saw in an instant, as she
came, half-sliding, half-bounding, to meet the general; and then turning
to me, welcomed me with a cordial warmth, very different from the
reception of Madame la Marquise.

Whether it was the influence of her presence, whether it was a partial
concession of the old lady's own, or whether my own awkwardness was
wearing off by time, I cannot say--but gradually the stiffness of the
interview began to diminish. From the scenery around us we grew to talk
of the Tyrol generally, then of Switzerland, and lastly of France. The
marquise came from Auvergne, and was justly proud of the lovely scenery
of her birthplace.

Calmly and tranquilly as the conversation had been carried on up to
this period, the mention of France seemed to break down the barrier of
reserve within the old lady's mind, and she burst out in a wild flood
of reminiscences of the last time she had seen her native village. 'The
Blues,' as the revolutionary soldiers were called, had come down
upon the quiet valley, carrying fire and carnage into a once peaceful
district. The chateau of her family was razed to the ground; her husband
was shot upon his own terrace; the whole village was put to the sword;
her own escape was owing to the compassion of the gardener's wife, who
dressed her like a peasant boy, and employed her in a menial station, a
condition she was forced to continue so long as the troops remained in
the neighbourhood. 'Yes,' said she, drawing off her silk mittens, 'these
hands still witness the hardships I speak of. These are the marks of my
servitude.'

It was in vain the general tried at first to sympathise, and then
withdraw her f