g Bertrand reentered the saloon he had
so lately left, and went directly to the general, who was standing,
surrounded by his glittering staff.

"General," said he, "_here_ is my title of nobility--my father is all
the wealth I possess in the world."

Tears started to the general's eyes, and he shook the old soldier
warmly by the hand. Then beckoning to Julie, he led her to Victor, and
placed her trembling hand in his.

"Let this dear girl," said he, "make amends for my coldness a moment
since. A son so noble hearted is worthy of all happiness."

In a word, Captain, afterwards Colonel, Bertrand married the general's
daughter, and the happiness of their fireside was completed by the
constant presence of the good old soldier, to whose self-denial Victor
owed his honors and domestic bliss.

TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY.

The steamer Ben Franklin--it was many years ago, reader--was just on
the point of leaving her dock at Providence, when a slender, pale
young man, with sandy whiskers and green eyes, who had just safely
stowed away his valise, honorably paid his fare, and purchased a
supper ticket, and now stood on the upper deck, leaning on his blue
cotton umbrella in a mild attitude of contemplation, was accosted by a
benevolent-looking old gentleman, in gold-bowed spectacles, upon whose
left arm hung a feminine, in a bright mazarine blue broadcloth
travelling habit, with a gold watch at her waist, and a green veil
over her face, with the (to a timid young man) startling question
of,--

"Pray, sir, will you be so kind as to take charge of a lady?"

The slender young man with the blue cotton umbrella blushed up to the
roots of his sandy hair, but he bowed deeply and affirmatively.

"We were disappointed in not meeting a friend, sir," continued the
benevolent-looking old gentleman, "and so I had to trust to chance for
finding an escort to Fanny. Only as far as New York, sir; my daughter
will give you very little trouble. She's a strong-minded, independent
woman, sir, and abundantly able to take care of herself; but I don't
like the idea of ladies travelling alone. If the boat sinks, sir,
she's abundantly able to swim ashore. Good by, Fanny."

"Father," said the lady in the blue habit, in a deep and mellow
baritone,--rather a queer voice for a woman, though,--"a parting
salute!" She threw back her veil, displaying a pair of piercing black
eyes, kissed the paternal cheek, veiled the black eyes a moment with a
l