was pacified. If Virginia suffered, Paul lamented; but Virginia
was wont to conceal her pain, that her sufferings might not distress
him. All their study was to please and assist each other. They had been
taught no religion but that which instructs us to love one another; and
they raised toward heaven innocent hands and pure hearts, filled with
the love of their parents. Thus passed their early infancy, like a
beautiful dawn, which seems to promise a still more beautiful day.

Madame de la Tour had moments of uneasiness during her daughter's
childhood; sometimes she used to say to me: "If I should die what would
become of Virginia, dowerless as she is?" She had an aunt in France, a
woman of quality, rich, old, and a devotee, to whom she had written at
the time of Virginia's birth. Not until 1746--eleven years later--did a
reply reach her. Her aunt told her that she merited her condition for
having married an adventurer; that the untimely death of her husband was
a just chastisement of God; that she had done well not to dishonour her
country by returning to France; and that after all she was in an
excellent country, where everybody made fortunes except the idle.

She added, however, that in spite of all this she had strongly
recommended her to the governor of the island, M. de la Bourdonaye. But,
conformably to a custom too prevalent, in feigning to pity she had
calumniated her; and, consequently, madame was received by the governor
with the greatest coolness.

Returning to the plantation with a bitter heart, madame read the letter
tearfully to all the family. Margaret clasped her to her arms; Virginia,
weeping, kissed her hands; Paul stamped with rage; the servants hearing
the noise, ran in to comfort her.

Such marks of affection soon dissipated madame's anguish.

"Oh, my children!" she cried. "Misfortune only attacks me from afar;
happiness is ever around me!"

_II--Nature's Children_

As the years went on, Paul and Virginia grew up together in purity and
contentment. Every succeeding day was to them a day of happiness. They
were strangers to the torments of envy and ambition. By living in
solitude, so far from degenerating into savages, they had become more
humane. If the scandalous history of society did not supply them with
topics of discourse, nature filled their hearts with transports of
wonder and delight. They contemplated with rapture the power of that
Providence which, by aid of their hands, had di