ures, for her
voice was sweet and melodious.

"I am indeed glad that you understand French so well," she said. "When
I heard that an Englishman was coming some day, I thought that we should
have had to carry on a conversation by signs, and that would have been
very stupid."

"I fear that I do not speak it very correctly, but I must try to improve
myself," I remarked.

"You do make a few mistakes now and then, but I shall be delighted to
instruct you, and to correct your errors, if you will allow me to do
so."

That night, although somewhat tired from the exertions I had gone
through in the morning, it was some time before I felt inclined to turn
in; and when I did at length go to bed, I remained awake far longer than
usual, thinking of the beautiful Sophie, her sweet voice still sounding
in my ears.

I was awakened next morning by Larry, who accompanied one of the
servants to my room.

"I did not see you last night, Mr Terence, and I couldn't tell what had
become of your honour," he exclaimed. "Faith, I tried to tell the
people of the house that I wanted to find you, but not a word of my best
French did they understand."

I told Larry how well I had been treated, and that he need not have any
apprehensions about me. The servant had brought a cup of coffee, which
I found was the custom of the French to take in the morning, and he told
me that breakfast would not be ready for an hour or more. As soon,
therefore, as I had dressed I descended to the garden, which was of
considerable extent, with lawns, fish-ponds, fountains, statues, and
labyrinths. I had not gone far, when I saw a small figure tripping on
lightly before me. I was tempted to hasten my steps. She turned--it
was Sophie.

"I will show you the garden," she said, "and my favourite spots. You
might lose yourself without my guidance, and perhaps you will accept
it."

I of course had but one answer to give. We walked on in the fresh
morning air. I thought her lovely in the evening, but she appeared
still more so now, looking as fresh and bright as the gay flowers which
adorned the parterres. I felt that I had entered into a new existence;
it was no wonder, for we were both young, and she had lived a secluded
life, she told me, since her father's death. We very naturally forgot
all about breakfast, and when we arrived at the house Madame La Touche
chided her for her thoughtlessness in allowing me to starve.

Such was the commencement of my