ave found a husband to keep me instead of my
keeping him. Marriage is a lottery."

We suggested that every cloud has its silver lining.

"True, senor. And after all if I did not draw the highest number,
neither did I fall upon the lowest. This dear youth too is a
consolation. He is fond of swords and trumpets, but never shall be a
soldier. I have long had the money put by for a substitute in case he
should be unlucky. For that matter, Heaven has prospered my industry and
in a humble way we are at ease."

This recalled the scene witnessed in the earlier hours of the morning
and the appointment half made with the colonel for the morrow.

"Evidently you do not approve of conscription, madame, which to-day
seems to be running hand-in-hand with the revels of the fair."

"I see that conscription is a necessary evil," returned madame, "for
without it we should not get soldiers; but you will never persuade me
any good can come of it. That my son here, who has been carefully
brought up, should suddenly be thrown under the influence of the worst
and vilest of mankind--no, it is impossible to avoid disaster. So,
Ernesto, never fix your affections on a military life, for it can never
be, never shall be. I would sooner make you a priest, though I haven't
the least ambition that way either."

To do the boy justice, he seemed quite ready to yield, laughed at the
idea of priesthood, and if fond of swords and trumpets, his military
ardour went no further. If one might judge, a civil life would be his
choice, and possibly a successful one, for he seemed to inherit his
mother's energy with her dark eyes and brilliant colouring. But for the
moment the fair and the fair only was the object of his desires. This
was in accordance with the fitness of things. He was at the age which
comes once only, with swift wings, when life has no alloy and happiness
lies in gratifying the moods and fancies of the moment.

"Now I am ready," said the mother, evidently very happy herself. "Ah,
senor, you are too good," as we slipped a substantial coin into the
boy's hand and bade him buy his mother a fairing and himself chestnuts
and ambitions. "But after all, the pleasure of conferring happiness is
the most exquisite in the world. There is nothing like it. So perhaps I
should envy, not chide you."

They went off together, the boy taking his mother's arm with that
confidential affection and good understanding so often seen abroad. To
him the world was