d Frances, bursting into tears. "Is it true? Is it, indeed, true?"

"So true, that if you will promise me to keep as calm as you can, I will
tell you when you may see him."

"Soon--may I not?"

"Yes; soon."

"But when will he arrive?"

"He may arrive any minute--to-morrow--perhaps to-day."

"To-day!"

"Yes, mother! Well, I must tell you all--he has arrived."

"He--he is--" Frances could not articulate the word.

"He was downstairs just now. Before coming up, he sent the dyer to
apprise me that I might prepare you; for my brave father feared the
surprise might hurt you."

"Oh, heaven!"

"And now," cried the blacksmith, in an accent of indescribable joy--"he
is there, waiting! Oh, mother! for the last ten minutes I have scarcely
been able to contain myself--my heart is bursting with joy." And running
to the door, he threw it open.

Dagobert, holding Rose and Blanche by the hand, stood on the threshold.
Instead of rushing to her husband's arms, Frances fell on her knees in
prayer. She thanked heaven with profound gratitude for hearing her
prayers, and thus accepting her offerings. During a second, the actors of
this scene stood silent and motionless. Agricola, by a sentiment of
respect and delicacy, which struggled violently with his affection, did
not dare to fall on his father's neck. He waited with constrained
impatience till his mother had finished her prayer.

The soldier experienced the same feeling as the blacksmith; they
understood each other. The first glance exchanged by father and son
expressed their affection--their veneration for that excellent woman, who
in the fulness of her religious fervor, forgot, perhaps, too much the
creature for the Creator.

Rose and Blanche, confused and affected, looked with interest on the
kneeling woman; while Mother Bunch, shedding in silence tears of joy at
the thought of Agricola's happiness, withdrew into the most obscure
corner of the room, feeling that she was a stranger, and necessarily out
of place in that family meeting. Frances rose, and took a step towards
her husband, who received her in his arms. There was a moment of solemn
silence. Dagobert and Frances said not a word. Nothing could be heard but
a few sighs, mingled with sighs of joy. And, when the aged couple looked
up, their expression was calm, radiant, serene; for the full and complete
enjoyment of simple and pure sentiments never leaves behind a feverish
and violent agitation.

"My children,