he discovery."

There was a rustle of silken trains in the hall. Madame Fleury entered
in a stiff brocade and a sparkle of jewels, Mam'selle in a softer,
though still elegant attire, and Jeanne, who stood amazed at the eyes
bent upon her; even her father was mute from very surprise.

"Oh, my sweet Jeanne," began M. St. Armand, smilingly, "thou hast
strangely outgrown the little girl I used to know. Memory hath cheated
me in the years. For the child that kept such a warm place in my heart
hath grown into a woman, and not only that, but hath a new friend and
will not need me."

"Monsieur, no one with remembrance in her heart can so easily give up an
old friend who made life brighter and happier for her, and who kindled
the spark of ambition in her soul. I think even my father owes you a
great debt. I might still have been a wild thing, haunting the woods and
waters Indian fashion, and, as one might say, despising civilized life,"
smiling with a bewitching air. "I thank you, Monsieur, for your interest
in me. For it has given me a great deal of happiness, and no doubt saved
me from some foolish mistakes."

She had proffered him her dainty hand at the beginning of her speech,
and now with a charming color she raised her eyes to her father. One
could trace a decided likeness between them.

"Monsieur St. Armand has done still more," subjoined her father. "He has
taken pains while in France to hunt up bygone records, and found that
the families are related. So you have not only a friend but a relative,
and I surely will join you in gratitude."

"I am most happy." She glanced smilingly from one to the other.
Mam'selle Fleury watched her with surprise. The grace, ease, and
presence of mind one could hardly have looked for. "It is in the blood,"
she said to herself, and she wished, too, that she had made herself a
friend of this enchanting girl.

Then they moved toward the dining room. M. Fleury took in Jeanne as the
honored guest, and seated her at his right. The Sieur Angelot was beside
the hostess. The conversation in the nature of the startling incidents
was largely personal and between the two men. Mam'selle Fleury was
deeply interested in the adventures of the Sieur Angelot, detailed with
spirit and vivacity. Jeanne's varying color and her evident pride in her
father was delightful to witness. That he and this elegant St. Armand
should have sprung from the same stock was easy to believe. While the
gentlemen sat over