you will, I think, acknowledge that there is something great
and elevating in the heart of man, in this fraternal harmony of voices,
blending in one grave, sonorous, imposing sound."

"Oh! I believe it. But what happiness to inhabit here. It is a life of
joy; for labor, mixed with recreation, becomes itself a pleasure."

"Alas! here, as everywhere, there are tears and sorrows," replied
Agricola, sadly. "Do you see that isolated building, in a very exposed
situation?"

"Yes; what is it?"

"That is our hospital for the sick. Happily, thanks to our healthy mode
of life, it is not often full; an annual subscription enables us to have
a good doctor. Moreover, a mutual benefit society is arranged in such a
manner amongst us, that any one of us, in case of illness, receives two
thirds of what he would have gained in health."

"How well it is all managed! And there, M. Agricola, on the other side
of the grass-plot?"

"That is the wash-house, with water laid on, cold and hot; and under
yonder shed is the drying-place: further on, you see the stables, and
the lofts and granaries for the provender of the factory horses."

"But M. Agricola, will you tell me the secret of all these wonders?"

"In ten minutes you shall understand it all, mademoiselle."

Unfortunately, Angela's curiosity was for a while disappointed. The girl
was now standing with Agricola close to the iron gate, which shut in the
garden from the broad avenue that separated the factory from the Common
Dwelling-house. Suddenly, the wind brought from the distance the sound
of trumpets and military music; then was heard the gallop of two
horses, approaching rapidly, and soon after a general officer made his
appearance, mounted on a fine black charger, with a long flowing tail
and crimson housings; he wore cavalry boots and white breeches, after
the fashion of the empire; his uniform glittered with gold embroidery,
the red ribbon of the Legion of Honor was passed over his right epaulet,
with its four silver stars, and his hat had a broad gold border, and
was crowned with a white plume, the distinctive sign reserved for
the marshals of France. No warrior could have had a more martial and
chivalrous air, or have sat more proudly on his war-horse. At the moment
Marshal Simon (for it was he) arrived opposite the place where Angela
and Agricola were standing, he drew up his horse suddenly, sprang
lightly to the ground, and threw the golden reins to a servant in
live