on her
tomb praising her fidelity and probity. Do you think these things do not
sink into the heart of the poor?--praise on her tomb, and not a word on
their own, but just the name, and when each was born and died, you know.
Ah! the pride of the mean is dirt; but the pride of the noble is gold."

"For, look you, among parvenues I should be a servant, and nothing more;
in this proud family I am a humble friend; of course they are not always
gossiping with me like vulgar masters and mistresses; if they did, I
should neither respect nor love them; but they all smile on me whenever
I come into the room, even the baroness herself. I belong to them, and
they belong to me, by ties without number, by the many kind words in
many troubles, by the one roof that sheltered us a hundred years, and
the grave where our bones lie together till the day of judgment."*

* The French peasant often thinks half a sentence, and
utters the other half aloud, and so breaks air in the middle
of a thought. Probably Jacintha's whole thought, if we had
the means of knowing it, would have run like this--"Besides,
I have another reason: I could not be so comfortable myself
elsewhere--for, look you"--

Jacintha clasped her hands, and her black eyes shone out warm through
the dew. Riviere's glistened too.

"That is well said," he cried; "it is nobly said: yet, after all, these
are ties that owe their force to the souls they bind. How often have
such bonds round human hearts proved ropes of sand! They grapple YOU
like hooks of steel; because you are steel yourself to the backbone. I
admire you, Jacintha. Such women as you have a great mission in France
just now."

Jacintha shook her head incredulously. "What can we poor women do?"

"Bring forth heroes," cried Publicola with fervor. "Be the mothers of
great men, the Catos and the Gracchi of the future!"

Jacintha smiled. She did not know the Gracchi nor their politics; but
the name rang well. "Gracchi!" Aristocrats, no doubt. "That would be too
much honor," replied she modestly. "At present, I must say adieu!" and
she moved off an inch at a time, in an uncertain hesitating manner, not
very difficult to read; but Riviere, you must know, had more than once
during this interview begged her to sit down, and in vain; she had
always thanked him, but said she had not a moment to stay. So he made no
effort to detain her now. The consequence was--she came slowly back
of her ow