o the king Turbulent, her father, who
confined her in a tower, where she soon died of rage and anger. All the
world supposed you to be dead. As to your sister Brunette, she became so
wicked, so insupportable, that the king hastened to give her in marriage
last year to the prince Violent, who charged himself with the duty of
reforming the character of the cruel and envious princess Brunette. The
prince was stern and harsh. Brunette saw that her wicked heart prevented
her from being happy and she commenced trying to correct her faults. You
will see her again some day, dear Blondine and your example may complete
her reformation."

Blondine thanked Bonne-Biche tenderly for all these details. Her heart
prompted her to ask, "But when shall I see my father and sister?" But
she feared to appear ungrateful and too anxious to leave the castle of
her good friends. She resolved then to await another more suitable
opportunity to ask this question.

The days passed away quietly and pleasantly. Blondine was much occupied,
but was sometimes melancholy. She had no one to talk with but
Bonne-Biche and she was only with her during the hours of lessons and
repasts. Beau-Minon could not converse and could only make himself
understood by signs. The gazelles served Blondine with zeal and
intelligence but they had not the gift of speech.

Blondine walked every day, always accompanied by Beau-Minon, who pointed
out to her the most lovely and sequestered paths and the rarest and
richest flowers.

Bonne-Biche had made Blondine promise solemnly never to leave the
enclosure of the park and never to enter the forest. Many times Blondine
had asked Bonne-Biche the reason of this prohibition. Sighing
profoundly, she had replied:

"Ah, Blondine! do not seek to penetrate the forest. It is a fatal spot.
May you never enter there."

Sometimes Blondine mounted a pavilion which was built on an eminence
near the boundary of the forest. She looked admiringly and longingly at
the magnificent trees, the lovely and fragrant flowers, the thousand
graceful birds flying and singing and seeming to call her name.

"Alas!" said she, "why will not Bonne-Biche allow me to walk in this
beautiful forest? What possible danger can I encounter in that lovely
place and under her protection?"

Whenever she was lost in these reflections, Beau-Minon, who seemed to
comprehend what was passing in her heart, mewed plaintively, pulled her
robe and tried to draw her from the