rs of those who love, how sweet is the hour that
reunites them! Antoinette clung rapturously to Philip's breast, and Mr.
and Mrs. Reed, wishing to allow the young people to enjoy each other's
society undisturbed, left the room; but before he went, Mr. Reed said to
Philip:

"You will spend the day and dine with us, will you not?"

"Ah! how gladly would I do so! But I shall be obliged to leave in an
hour!"

Mr. Reed stood motionless for a moment, actually stupefied with
astonishment.

"What! you are going to leave me so soon?" cried Antoinette,
despairingly.

"I will explain my reasons," replied Philip.

Mr. Reed bowed and followed his wife, who had just disappeared.

Two years had passed since Philip fled with Antoinette from the burning
chateau and from the bedside of his dying father. On quitting the scene
of the catastrophe that destroyed the home of his childhood, Philip
accompanied by Mlle. de Mirandol repaired to Valence. There, a friend of
the Chamondrin family furnished them with the means to pursue their
journey to England, which country they gained after many perils and
vicissitudes.

London served as a refuge for many of the Emigres, but Philip had chosen
the capital of Great Britain as a retreat for Antoinette, principally
because he knew that a portion of Mlle. de Mirandol's fortune was in the
hands of a banker in that city, and because it would be easy there to
obtain news from Louisiana, where the heiress of M. de Mirandol still
owned considerable property.

After their perilous journey was concluded and they were safely
established in England, the agitation caused by the great disaster which
had deprived them of so much that they loved was succeeded by a relative
calm which gave them an opportunity to look their situation in the face.
They both found it exceedingly embarrassing. Antoinette remembered only
that she loved Philip, and that, in obedience to the request of his
dying father, he had solemnly promised to marry her. She was simply
waiting for him to fulfil this promise, and already regarded herself as
his wife.

As for Philip, he inwardly cursed this promise. His thoughts were
constantly occupied with Dolores; he said to himself that since the
convents had been broken up, she must be free if she were still alive;
and he would not believe that she was dead. He was certain that she was
still alive, that Coursegol had remained with her to protect her, and
that the day of their meeting w