on its sacred pages.

There was much stir in the market when the Bourgeois began his
accustomed walk among the stalls, stopping to converse with such friends
as he met, and especially with the poor and infirm, who did not follow
him--he hated to be followed,--but who stood waiting his arrival at
certain points which he never failed to pass. The Bourgeois knew that
his poor almsmen would be standing there, and he would no more avoid
them than he would avoid the Governor.

A group of girls very gaily dressed loitered through the market,
purchasing bouquets of the last of autumnal flowers, and coquetting with
the young men of fashion who chose the market-place for their morning
promenade, and who spent their smiles and wit freely, and sometimes
their money, upon the young ladies they expected to find there.

This morning the Demoiselles Grandmaison and Hebert were cheapening
immortelles and dry flowers to decorate their winter vases,--a pleasant
fashion, not out of date in the city at the present day.

The attention of these young ladies was quite as much taken up with
the talk of their cavaliers as with their bargaining when a quick
exclamation greeted them from a lady on horseback, accompanied by the
Chevalier de Pean. She drew bridle sharply in front of the group, and
leaning down from her saddle gave her hand to the ladies, bidding them
good morning in a cheery voice which there was no mistaking, although
her face was invisible behind her veil. It was Angelique des Meloises,
more gay and more fascinating than ever.

She noticed two gentlemen in the group. "Oh, pardon me, Messieurs Le
Mercier and d'Estebe!" said she. "I did not perceive you. My veil is so
in the way!" She pushed it aside coquettishly, and gave a finger to each
of the gentlemen, who returned her greeting with extreme politeness.

"Good morning! say you, Angelique?" exclaimed Mademoiselle Hebert; "it
is a good noon. You have slept rarely! How bright and fresh you look,
darling!"

"Do I not!" laughed Angelique in reply. "It is the morning air and a
good conscience make it! Are you buying flowers? I have been to Sillery
for mine!" said she, patting her blooming cheeks with the end of her
riding-whip. She had no time for further parley, for her attention was
suddenly directed by De Pean to some stir upon the other side of the
market, with an invitation to her to ride over and see what was the
matter. Angelique at once wheeled her horse to accompany