wedding-day one of the happiest
of my life."

On the very next day all the house of M. de Vermondans was occupied with
preparations for the approaching marriage. Dressmakers were busy, and
cabinet-makers were preparing furniture, platforms, &c., for the
wedding-day.

Alete had enough to do to watch over the different works. Smiling and
merry as she used to be, a change had come over her, and she seemed
already dignified and matronly.

Ebba assisted her with great devotion, and ceased to give Ireneus lessons
in Swedish.

M. de Vermondans smoked his pipe with an air of thought, and sometimes of
sorrow, for the idea of separation from his daughter weighed heavily on
him, much as he desired that she should marry so near him.

For the first time since he had reached his uncle's house, Ireneus was
alone. A few days before the merry chat of Alete, the philosophical
conversation of the old gentleman, the dreamy poetry of Ebba, and the
activity and motion of all the household had diverted the young officer's
attention from himself. Now his thoughts involuntarily returned, in
consequence of news he had received from his country. His mother, who
shared all his secrets, sought to encourage him, and to unfold a new
horizon. In spite of this, however, every letter increased his
unhappiness. Some of his friends also wrote to him; and this
correspondence surprised him painfully. He heard, in this manner, of
political defections which he, in his chivalric exaggeration looked on as
felony, and at which he was most indignant.

"Villains!" said he, one day, as he read to his uncle a letter which he
had just received. "Now, this man owed everything to the kindness of
Charles X., yet for the sake of office he has cast himself at the foot of
a new master. Here is one who, on the 28th of July, applauded the
ordinances, and swore that the hydra of liberalism should he destroyed:
and said that he would pour out the last drop of his blood in defense of
legitimacy. He is now a partisan of the revolution. We live in a
scandalous age. All principles of honor and religion are forgotten.
Office has great value, indeed, when honor and conscience are sacrificed
to it."

As he spoke thus, Ireneus strode up and down the room, and crushed the
letter in his hands.

"My boy," said M. de Vermondans, with his kind philosophy, "your feeling
springs from a sentiment which does you honor. Unfortunately, however, it
can but injure you without benefiting