e to speak to him
this evening freely, from my heart."

"We will allow you," replied Richard, "you shall speak to him freely, for
we know, both of us, Bettina, that you will never do anything that is not
noble and generous."

"At least, I shall try."

The children ran up to them; they had seen Jean, he was quite white with
dust, he said good-morning to them.

"Only," added Bella, "he is not very nice, he did not stop to talk to us;
usually he stops, but this time he wouldn't."

"Yes, he would," replied Harry, "for at first he seemed as if he were
going to--and then he would not, he went away."

"Well, he didn't stop, and it is so nice to talk to a soldier, especially
when he is on horseback."

"It is not that only, it is that we are very fond of Monsieur Jean; if
you knew, papa, how kind he is, and how nicely he plays with us."

"And what beautiful drawings he makes. Harry, you remember that great
Punch who was so funny, with his stick, you know?"

"And the dog, there was the little dog, too, as in the show."

The two children went away talking of their friend Jean.

"Decidedly," said Mr. Scott, "every one likes him in this house."

"And you will be like every one else when you know him," replied Bettina.

The regiment broke into a trot along the highroad, after leaving the
village. There was the terrace where Bettina had been the other morning.
Jean said to himself:

"Supposing she should be there."

He dreaded and hoped it at the same time. He raised his head, he looked,
she was not there.

He had not seen her again, he would not see her again, for a long-time at
least. He would start that very evening at six o'clock for Paris; one of
the personages in the War Office was interested in him; he would try to
get exchanged into another regiment.

Alone at Cercottes, Jean had had time to reflect deeply, and that was the
result of his reflections. He could not, he must not, be Bettina
Percival's husband.

The men dismounted at the barracks, Jean took leave of his Colonel, his
comrades; all was over. He was free, he could go.

But he did not go; he looked around him. How happy he was three months
ago, when he rode out of that great yard amid the noise of the cannon
rolling over the pavement of Souvigny; but how sadly he should ride away
to-day! Formerly his life was there; where would it be hereafter?

He returned, went to his own room, and wrote to Mrs. Scott; he told her
that his duties obliged him