look at us, father! look into our eyes, into our hearts," cried
Rose, with rapture.

"And you will read there, happiness for us, and love for you, sir!"
added Blanche.

"Sir, sir!" said the marshal, in a tone of affectionate reproach; "what
does that mean? Will you call me father, if you please?"

"Dear father, your hand!" said Blanche, as she took it, and placed it on
her heart.

"Dear father, your hand!" said Rose, as she took the other hand of the
marshal. "Do you believe now in our love and happiness?" she continued.

It is impossible to describe the charming expression of filial pride in
the divine faces of the girls, as their father, slightly pressing their
virgin bosoms, seemed to count with delight the joyous pulsations of
their hearts.

"Oh, yes! happiness and affection can alone make the heart beat thus!"
cried the marshal.

A hoarse sob, heard in the direction of the open door, made the three
turn round, and there they saw the tall figure of Dagobert, with the
black nose of Spoil-sport reaching to his master's knee. The soldier,
drying his eyes and moustache with his little blue cotton handkerchief,
remained motionless as the god Terminus. When he could speak, he
addressed himself to the marshal, and, shaking his head, muttered, in a
hoarse voice, for the good man was swallowing his tears: "Did I not tell
you so?"

"Silence!" said the marshal, with a sign of intelligence. "You were a
better father than myself, my old friend. Come and kiss them! I shall
not be jealous."

The marshal stretched out his hand to the soldier, who pressed it
cordially, whilst the two sisters threw themselves on his neck, and
Spoil-sport, according to custom wishing to have his share in the
general joy, raised himself on his hind legs, and rested his fore-paws
against his master's back. There was a moment of profound silence.
The celestial felicity enjoyed during that moment, by the marshal,
his daughters, and the soldier, was interrupted by the barking of
Spoil-sort, who suddenly quitted the attitude of a biped. The happy
group separated, looked round, and saw Loony's stupid face. He looked
even duller than usual, as he stood quite still in the doorway, staring
with wide stretched eyes, and holding a feather-broom under his arm, and
in his hand the ever-present basket of wood.

Nothing makes one so gay as happiness; and, though this grotesque figure
appeared at a very unseasonable moment, it was received with frank
lau