chivalric loyalty. As she believed she knew him thoroughly, she
thought he wished to avoid committing himself, or awakening public
observation, before he had made up his mind.

He acted thus to avoid disturbing the repose of both mother and daughter.
Perhaps also the large fortune which seemed destined for Mademoiselle de
Tecle might add to his scruples by rousing his pride.

His not marrying was in itself a good augury, and his little fiancee was
reaching a marriageable age. She therefore did not despair that some day
M. de Camors would throw himself at her feet, and say, "Give her to met!"

If God did not intend that this delicious page should ever be written in
the book of her destiny, and she was forced to marry her daughter to
another, the poor woman consoled herself with the thought that all the
cares she lavished upon her would not be lost, and that her dear child
would thus be rendered better and happier.

The long months which intervened between the annual apparition of Camors
at Reuilly, filled up by Madame de Tecle with a single idea and by the
sweet monotony of a regular life, passed more rapidly than the Count
could have imagined. His own life, so active and so occupied, placed ages
and abysses between each of his periodical voyages. But Madame de Tecle,
after five years, was always only a day removed from the cherished and
fatal night on which her dream had begun. Since that period there had
been no break in her thoughts, no void in her heart, no wrinkle on her
forehead. Her dream continued young, like herself. But in spite of the
peaceful and rapid succession of her days, it was not without anxiety
that she saw the approach of the season which always heralded the return
of Camors.

As her daughter matured, she preoccupied herself with the impression she
would make on the mind of the Count, and felt more sensibly the solemnity
of the matter.

Mademoiselle Marie, as we have already stated, was a cunning little puss,
and had not failed to perceive that her tender mother chose habitually
the season of the convocation of the Councils-General to try a new style
of hair-dressing for her. The same year on which we have resumed our
recital there passed, on one occasion, a little scene which rather
annoyed Madame de Tecle. She was trying a new coiffure on Mademoiselle
Marie, whose hair was very pretty and very black; some stray and
rebellious portions had frustrated her mother's efforts.

There was one lock