s dress, which seemed expressly made for her. The young
girl's countenance was calm and composed. Certain feelings of delight
produce in the mind an unspeakable sadness,--a holy melancholy. Rodolph
was not surprised at the gravity of Fleur-de-Marie; he had expected it.
Had she been merry and talkative, she would not have retained so high a
place in his good opinion. In the serious and resigned countenance of
Madame Georges might easily be traced the indelible marks of
long-suffering; but she looked at Fleur-de-Marie with a tenderness and
compassion quite maternal, so much gentleness and sweetness did this
poor girl evince.

"Here is my child, who has come to thank you for your goodness, M.
Rodolph," said Madame Georges, presenting Goualeuse to Rodolph.

At the words, "my child," Goualeuse turned her large eyes slowly towards
her protectress, and contemplated her for some moments with a look of
unutterable gratitude.

"Thanks for Marie, my dear Madame Georges; she deserves this kind
interest, and always will deserve it."

"M. Rodolph," said Goualeuse, with a trembling voice, "you understand, I
know, I feel that you do, that I cannot find anything to say to you."

"Your emotion tells me all, my child."

"Oh, she feels deeply the good fortune that has come to her so
providentially," said Madame Georges, deeply affected; "her first
impulse on entering my room was to prostrate herself before my
crucifix."

"Because now, thanks to you, M. Rodolph, I dare to pray," said
Goualeuse.

Murphy turned away hastily; his pretensions to firmness would not allow
of any one seeing to what extent the simple words of Goualeuse had
touched him.

Rodolph said to her, "My child, I wish to have some conversation with
Madame Georges. My friend Murphy will lead you over the farm, and
introduce you to your future proteges. We will join you presently. Well,
Murphy, Murphy, don't you hear me?"

The worthy gentleman turned his back, and pretended to blow his nose
with a very loud noise, then put his handkerchief in his pocket, pulled
his hat over his eyes, and, turning half around, offered his arm to
Marie, managing so skilfully that neither Rodolph nor Madame Georges
could see his face. Taking the arm of Marie, he walked away with her
towards the farm buildings, and so quickly, that, to keep up with him,
Goualeuse was obliged to run, as in her infant days she ran beside the
Chouette.

"Well, Madame Georges, what do you think of Marie