oody by turns she alarmed both her mother and the
good Dr. Aubertin. The latter was not, I think, quite without suspicion
of the truth; however, he simply prescribed change of air and place;
she must go to Frejus, a watering-place distant about five leagues.
Mademoiselle de Beaurepaire yielded a languid assent. To her all places
were alike.

But when they returned from Frejus a change had taken place. Rose had
extracted her sister's secret, and was a changed girl. Pity, and the
keen sense of Josephine's wrong, had raised her sisterly love to a
passion. The great-hearted girl hovered about her lovely, suffering
sister like an angel, and paid her the tender attentions of a devoted
lover, and hated Camille Dujardin with all her heart: hated him all the
more that she saw Josephine shrink even from her whenever she inveighed
against him.

At last Rose heard some news of the truant lover. The fact is, this
young lady was as intelligent as she was inexperienced; and she had
asked Jacintha to tell Dard to talk to every soldier that passed through
the village, and ask him if he knew anything about Captain Dujardin
of the 17th regiment. Dard cross-examined about a hundred invalided
warriors, who did not even recognize the captain's name; but at last,
by extraordinary luck, he actually did fall in with two, who told him
strange news about Captain Dujardin. And so then Dard told Jacintha; and
Jacintha soon had the men into the kitchen and told Rose. Rose ran to
tell Josephine; but stopped in the passage, and turned suddenly very
cold. Her courage failed her; she feared Josephine would not take the
news as she ought; and perhaps would not love her so well if SHE told
her; so she thought to herself she would let the soldiers tell their own
tale. She went into the room where Josephine was reading to the baroness
and Dr. Aubertin; she sat quietly down; but at the first opportunity
made Josephine one of those imperceptible signals which women, and above
all, sisters, have reduced to so subtle a system. This done, she went
carelessly out: and Josephine in due course followed her, and found her
at the door.

"What is it?" said Josephine, earnestly.

"Have you courage?" was Rose's reply.

"He is dead?" said Josephine, turning pale as ashes.

"No, no;" said Rose hastily; "he is alive. But you will need all your
courage."

"Since he lives I fear nothing," said Josephine; and stood there and
quivered from head to foot. Rose, with pit