rom this time, might be
called Agricola's betrothed, justified in every point the flattering
portrait which the smith had drawn of her in his interview with poor
Mother Bunch. The charming girl, seventeen years of age at most, dressed
with as much simplicity as neatness, was seated by the side of her
mother. When Agricola entered, she blushed slightly at seeing him.

"Mademoiselle," said Agricola, "I have come to keep my promise, if your
mother has no objection."

"Certainly, M. Agricola," answered the mother of the young girl
cordially. "She would not go over the Common Dwelling-house with her
father, her brother, or me, because she wished to have that pleasure with
you today. It is quite right that you, who can talk so well, should do
the honors of the house to the new-comer. She has been waiting for you an
hour, and with such impatience!"

"Pray excuse me, mademoiselle," said Agricola, gayly; "in thinking of the
pleasure of seeing you, I forgot the hour. That is my only excuse."

"Oh, mother!" said the young girl, in a tone of mild reproach, and
becoming red as a cherry, "why did you say that?"

"Is it true, yes or no? I do not blame you for it; on the contrary. Go
with M. Agricola, child, and he will tell you, better than I can, what
all the workmen of the factory owe to M, Hardy."

"M. Agricola," said Angela, tying the ribbons of her pretty cap, "what a
pity that your good little adopted sister is not with us."

"Mother Bunch?--yes, you are right, mademoiselle; but that is only a
pleasure put off, and the visit she paid us yesterday will not be the
last."

Having embraced her mother, the girl took Agricola's arm, and they went
out together.

"Dear me, M. Agricola," said Angela; "if you knew how much I was
surprised on entering this fine house, after being accustomed to see so
much misery amongst the poor workmen in our country, and in which I too
have had my share, whilst here everybody seems happy and contented. It is
really like fairy-land; I think I am in a dream, and when I ask my mother
the explanation of these wonders, she tells me, 'M. Agricola will explain
it all to you.'"

"Do you know why I am so happy to undertake that delightful task,
mademoiselle?" said Agricola, with an accent at once grave and tender.
"Nothing could be more in season."

"Why so, M. Agricola?"

"Because, to show you this house, to make you acquainted with all the
resources of our association, is to be able to say to you