before they were dried by the hand of affection; and I reflect
with joy that probably I shall never quit the Heaven-provided home which
has been granted me. I have been so very happy here."

"Real--eal--eally?" asked Gaston, doubtingly. "I fancied sometimes, when
I saw the Countess and Count Tristan so--so--so severe to you, that"--

"Have they not the right to find fault with me when I fail to please
them? That is only what I expect, and ought to bear patiently. I will
not pretend to say that sometimes, when I have been misunderstood, and
my best efforts have failed to bring about results that gratify them,--I
will not say that my heart does not swell as though it would burst; but
I console myself by reflecting that some far off, future day will come
to make amends for all, and bring me full revenge."

"Re--re--revenge! You re--re--revenge?" cried Gaston, in astonishment.

"Yes, _revenge_!" laughed Madeleine. "You see what a vindictive creature
I am! And I am positively preparing myself to enjoy this delightful
revenge. I will make you the confidant of my secret machinations. This
old chateau is lively enough now, and the presence of Bertha and Maurice
preserve to my aunt the pleasant memory of her own youth. But by and by
Maurice will go forth into the world, and perhaps we shall only see him
from time to time, at long intervals. Bertha will marry"--

At these words M. de Bois gave a violent start, and, stammering
unintelligibly, rose from his seat, upsetting his chair, walked to the
window, brought destruction upon some of Madeleine's vines by pulling
them violently aside, to thrust out his head; then strode back, lifted
the fallen chair, knocking down another, and with a flushed countenance
seated himself again.

Madeleine went on, as if she had not noticed his abrupt movement.

"Solitude and _ennui_ might then oppress the Countess and even Count
Tristan, and render their days burdensome. I am laying up a store of
materials to enliven these scenes of weariness and loneliness. I have
made myself quite a proficient in _piquet_, that I may pass long
evenings playing with the count; I have noted and learned all the old
airs that his mother delights to hear, because they remind her of her
girlhood, and I will sing them to her when she is solitary and
depressed. I will make her forget the absence of the dear ones who must
leave such a void in her life; in a thousand ways I will soften the
footsteps of age and infir