he war is not at
an end, and, instead of the palm of peace, the apple of discord will
flourish. Men no longer believe in constancy or honesty, every man
suspects his neighbor and holds him guilty, even as he knows himself to
be guilty. Every woman watches the conduct of other women with malicious
curiosity; she seems to herself less guilty when she finds that others
are no better than herself; and when, unhappily, she does not find that
her friend is false or faithless, she will try to make her appear so; if
the truth will not serve her purpose, she will, by slander and scandal,
draw a veil over her own sins. Never was there as much treachery and
crime as now. Calumny stands before every door, and will whisper such
evil and fearful things in the ears of every returned soldier, that
he will become wild with rage, and distrust his wife, no matter how
innocent she may be."

"I shall not be guilty of this fault," said Major du Trouffle. "If I
find slander lying in wait at my door, I will kick it from me and enter
my home calmly and smilingly, without having listened to her whispers,
or, if I have heard them involuntarily, without believing them."

"Then there will be at least one house in Berlin where peace will
reign," said Louise, sweetly, "and that house will be ours. I welcome
you in the name of our lares, who have been long joyfully awaiting you.
I have also an agreeable surprise for you."

"What surprise, Louise?"

"You often told me that my daughter Camilla disturbed your happiness,
that she stood like a dark cloud over my past, which had not belonged to
you."

"It is true! I could not force my heart to love her; her presence
reminded me always that you had been loved by another, had belonged to
another, and had been made thoroughly wretched."

"Well then, friend, this cloud has been lifted up, and this is the
surprise which awaited your return home. Camilla has been married more
than a year."

"Married'" cried the major, joyfully; "who is the happy man that has
undertaken to tame this wilful child, and warm her cold heart?"

"Ask rather, who is the unhappy man who was enamoured with this lovely
face, and has taken a demon for an angel?" sighed Louise. "He is a
young, distinguished, and wealthy Englishman, Lord Elliot, an attache
of the English embassy, who fulfilled the duties of minister during
the absence of the ambassador, Lord Mitchel, who was generally at the
headquarters of the king."

"And Camilla