--both lovely, and likely in
every respect to bless them with happiness. Shortly after the birth
of the girl, the mother became delicate, and after some months of
suffering, died. The father, who never rallied from the hour of her
death, and took little interest in the world, soon followed her, and the
children were left orphans when the eldest was but four years of
age, and his sister but three. Before the count died, he sent for
his steward. You know that the steward, or intendant, in France, was
formerly the person of greatest trust in any family,--the faithful
adviser in times of difficulty, the depositary of secrets, the friend,
in a word, who in humble guise offered his counsel in every domestic
arrangement, and without whom no project was entertained or determined
on; and usually the office was hereditary, descending from father to son
for centuries.

"In this family such was the case. His father and grandfather before him
had filled the office, and Leon Guichard well knew every tradition of
the house, and from his infancy his mind had been stored with tales of
its ancient wealth and former greatness. His father had died but a short
time previous, and when the count's last illness seized him, Leon was
only in the second year of his stewardship. Brief as the period was,
however, it had sufficed to give abundant proof of his zeal and
ability. New sources of wealth grew up under his judicious management;
improvements were everywhere conspicuous; and while the seigneur himself
found his income increased by nearly one-half, the tenants had gained in
equal proportion,--such was the result of his activity and intelligence.
These changes, marvellous as they may seem, were then of frequent
occurrence. The lands of the South had been tilled for centuries without
any effort at improvement; sons were content to go on as their fathers
had done before them; increased civilization, with its new train of
wants and luxuries, never invaded this remote, untravelled district, and
primitive tastes and simple habits succeeded each other generation after
generation unaltered and unchanged.

"Suddenly, however, a new light broke on the world, which penetrated
even the darkness of the far-off valleys of La Provence. Intelligence
began to be more widely diffused; men read and reflected; the rudiments
of every art and every science were put within the reach of humble
comprehensions; and they who before were limited to memory or hearsay
f