ble bursts of passion, to which he once gave way, escaped
him; his voice, his very look, too, were changed in their expression,
and a gentleness of manner almost amounting to timidity now
characterized him who had once been the type of the most savage Jacobin.

"She to whom this wondrous change was owing knew nothing of the miracle
she had worked; she would not, indeed, have believed, had one told her.
She scarcely remarked him when they met, and did not perceive that he
was no longer like his former self; her whole soul wrapped up in her
dear brother, s fate, she lived from week to week in the thought of his
letters home. It is true, her life had many enjoyments which owed their
source to the intendant's care; but she knew not of this, and felt more
grateful to him when he came letter in hand from the little post of the
village, than when the fair mossroses of spring filled the vases of
the salon, or the earliest fruits of summer decked her table. At times
something in his demeanor would strike her,--a tinge of sorrow it seemed
rather than aught else; but as she attributed this, as every other
grief, to her brother's absence, she paid no further attention to it,
and merely thought good Leon had more feeling than they used to give him
credit for.

"At last, the campaign of Arcole over, the young soldier obtained a
short leave to see his sister. How altered were they both! She, from
the child, had become the beautiful girl,--her eyes flashing with the
brilliant sparkle of youth, her step elastic, her color changing with
every passing expression. He was already a man, bronzed and sunburnt,
his dark eyes darker, and his voice deeper; but still his former self in
all the warmth of his affection to his sister.

"The lieutenant--for so was he always called by the old soldier who
accompanied him as his servant, and oftentimes by the rest of his
household--had seen much of the world in the few years of his absence.

"The chances and changes of a camp had taught him many things which lie
far beyond its own limits, and he had learned to scan men's minds and
motives with a quick eye and ready wit. He was not long, therefore, in
observing the alteration in Leon Guichard's manner; nor was he slow in
tracing it to its real cause. At first the sudden impulse of his passion
would have driven him to any length,--the presumption of such a thought
was too great to endure. But then the times he lived in taught him some
strong lessons. H