e birth.
She did not appear to be more than twenty years of age. By the anxiety
with which her large blue eyes scanned the horizon, it was easy to
divine that she was expecting some loved one; but it was also evident
that he did not come quickly enough to suit her desires, for she seemed
restless and impatient.

"What if he should not come?" she murmured. As if these words had been
heard, a voice responded:

"Do not be impatient, dear Antoinette. M. Philip said he would be here
to-day, but did not mention the hour; and the day has scarcely begun.
You will see him, never fear."

The lady who had just spoken had used the English language. She was a
kind, motherly looking person, past middle age. Understanding the young
girl's anxiety, she had joined her with the desire to appease it.
Antoinette replied, not without some bitterness:

"I am quite sure that we shall see him, dear Mrs. Reed; but have I not a
right to be impatient? Has it not been three weeks since he was here?"

"You do not know what important interests may have detained him in
London."

Antoinette shook her head; then, after casting another glance at the
deserted road, she sadly returned to the house. Mrs. Reed followed her,
trying to divert her mind and make her forget the sorrow and anxiety
caused by Philip's long absence. The two ladies entered a small, but
prettily furnished parlor and seated themselves at a round table, upon
which a servant had just deposited a smoking tea-urn, some empty cups
and some bread and butter. Just then, a very stout man entered the room.
It was Mr. Reed, the master of the house. He strongly resembled his
wife; there was the same age, the same corpulence, the same kind and
benevolent expression of countenance.

"Ah, well! mademoiselle," he remarked to the young girl, pouring out a
cup of tea, "this is a fete day, is it not? You are expecting Monsieur
Philip?"

Antoinette made no response. Mrs. Reed answered for her.

"Mademoiselle Antoinette is afraid her cousin will not keep his word."

"She is wrong then," quietly remarked Mr. Reed, who was now standing by
the window, sipping his tea, "she is wrong, for here he is!"

Antoinette sprang up, uttering a cry of joy. She was about to rush out
to meet Philip, but the latter did not give her time. He entered almost
immediately, and Antoinette flew to his arms. All her doubts, all her
griefs were forgotten! Ah! If the hour of separation is cruel when it
sounds in the ea