as he murmured
words of filial affection in her craving ear.

"Oh, mother!" he said, "words cannot describe my feelings of pain
and anguish upon hearing that my uncle had dared to threaten you. He
threaten you! He repents already of his cruelty; he did not know you as
I do. Yes, my mother, I have known you for a long, long time. Often have
my father and I hovered around your happy home to catch a glimpse of you
through the window. When you passed by in your carriage, he would say
to me, 'There is your mother, Raoul!' To look upon you was our greatest
joy. When we knew you were going to a ball, we would wait near the door
to see you enter, in your satin and diamonds. How often have I followed
your fast horses to see you descend from the carriage and enter wealthy
doors, which I could never hope to penetrate! And how my noble father
loved you always! When he told his brother to apply to you in my behalf,
he was unconscious of what he said; his mind was wandering."

Tears, the sweetest tears she had ever shed, coursed down Mme. Fauvel's
cheeks, as she listened to the musical tones of Raoul's voice.

This voice was so like Gaston's, that she seemed once more to be
listening to the lover of her almost forgotten youth.

She was living over again those stolen meetings, those long hours of
bliss, when Gaston was at her side, as they sat and watched the river
rippling beneath the trees.

It seemed only yesterday that Gaston had pressed her to his faithful
heart; she saw him still saying gently:

"In three years, Valentine! Wait for me!"

Andre, her two sons, Madeleine, all were forgotten in this new-found
affection.

Raoul continued in tender tones:

"Only yesterday I discovered that my uncle had been to demand for me a
few crumbs of your wealth. Why did he take such a step? I am poor, it is
true, very poor; but I am too familiar with poverty to bemoan it. I have
a clear brain and willing hands: that is fortune enough for a young man.
You are very rich. What is that to me? Keep all your fortune, my beloved
mother; but do not repel my affection; let me love you. Promise me
that this first kiss shall not be the last. No one will ever know of
my new-found happiness; not by word or deed will I do aught to let the
world suspect that I possess this great joy."

And Mme. Fauvel had dreaded this son! Ah, how bitterly did she now
reproach herself for not having flown to meet him the instant she heard
that he was living!

Sh