to the end of
their troubles; but dogs and donkeys and chaps in blouses can't die
gloriously; as Dard may, if he has any luck at all: so, from this hour,
if there was twice as little of him, be proud of him, for from this
time he is a part of France and her renown. Come, recruit ninety-nine,
shoulder your traps at duty's call, and let us go forth in form.
Attention! Quick--march! Halt! is that the way I showed you to march?
Didn't I tell you to start from the left? Now try again. QUICK--march!
left--right--left--right--left--right--NOW you've--GOT it--DRAT
ye,--KEEP it--left--right--left--right--left--right." And with no more
ado the sergeant marched the little odd-job man to the wars.

VIVE LA FRANCE!

CHAPTER XVIII.

Edouard, the moment his temper cooled, became very sad. He longed to be
friends again with Rose, but did not know how. His own pride held
him back, and so did his fear that he had gone too far, and that his
offended mistress would not listen to an offer of reconciliation from
him. He sat down alone now to all his little meals. No sweet, mellow
voices in his ear after the fatigues of the day. It was a dismal change
in his life.

At last, one day, he received three lines from Josephine, requesting him
to come and speak to her. He went over directly, full of vague hopes. He
found her seated pale and languid in a small room on the ground floor.

"What has she been doing to you, dear?" began she kindly.

"Has she not told you, Madame Raynal?"

"No; she is refractory. She will tell me nothing, and that makes me fear
she is the one in fault."

"Oh! if she does not accuse me, I am sure I will not accuse her. I dare
say I am to blame; it is not her fault that I cannot make her love me."

"But you can. She does."

"Yes; but she loves others better, and she holds me out no hope it will
ever be otherwise. On this one point how can I hope for your sympathy;
unfortunately for me you are one of my rivals. She told me plainly she
never could love me as she loves you."

"And you believed her?"

"I had good reason to believe her."

Josephine smiled sadly. "Dear Edouard," said she, "you must not attach
so much importance to every word we say. Does Rose at her age know
everything? Is she a prophet? Perhaps she really fancies she will always
love her sister as she does now; but you are a man of sense; you ought
to smile and let her talk. When you marry her you will take her to your
own house; she will