ners and
diversions for the day, music and dancing for the night.

The spirits of the inmates of the Manor House could not help but be
kept up by these expedients, and Amelie flattered herself that she would
quite succeed in dissipating the gloomy thoughts which occupied the mind
of Le Gardeur.

They sat on the stone by the brook-side for an hour, conversing
pleasantly while they watched the speckled trout dart like silver arrows
spotted with blood in the clear pool.

Le Gardeur strove to be gay, and teased Amelie in playfully criticizing
her programme, and, half in earnest, half in jest, arguing for the
superior attractions of the Palace of the Intendant to those of the
Manor House of Tilly. He saw the water standing in her eyes, when a
consciousness of what must be her feelings seized him; he drew her to
his side, asked her forgiveness, and wished fire were set to the Palace
and himself in the midst of it! He deserved it for wounding, even in
jest, the heart of the best and noblest sister in the world.

"I am not wounded, dear Le Gardeur," replied she, softly; "I knew you
were only in jest. My foolish heart is so sensitive to all mention of
the Palace and its occupants in connection with you, that I could not
even take in jest what was so like truth."

"Forgive me, I will never mention the Palace to you again, Amelie,
except to repeat the malediction I have bestowed upon it a thousand
times an hour since I returned to Tilly."

"My own brave brother!" exclaimed she, embracing him, "now I am happy!"

The shrill notes of a bugle were heard sounding a military call to
breakfast. It was the special privilege of an old servitor of the
family, who had been a trumpeter in the troop of the Seigneur of Tilly,
to summon the family of the Manor House in that manner to breakfast
only. The old trumpeter had solicited long to be allowed to sound the
reveille at break of day, but the good Lady de Tilly had too much
regard for the repose of the inmates of her house to consent to any such
untimely waking of them from their morning slumbers.

The old, familiar call was recognized by Philibert, who reminded Amelie
of a day when Aeolus (the ancient trumpeter bore that windy sobriquet)
had accompanied them on a long ramble in the forest,--how, the day being
warm, the old man fell asleep under a comfortable shade, while the three
children straggled off into the depths of the woods, where they were
speedily lost.

"I remember it l