dark, with eyes which seemed to pierce you through and through, and he had the air of a man of the world. In leaving church I met him at the door, near the "bénitier; " he dipped his gloved fingers in it and offered them to me; I touched them, and made the sign of the cross, then slightly bowing, I turned into the road leading to my aunt's house.

His face haunted me all the way; not that I very much admired it, but probably because my mind wanted occupation. I was more lively than usual that day, and my aunt remarking it, prevented my asking her who was the stranger I had seen.

The next day, as I sat at my open window, a sportsman followed by dogs crossed our vineyard; he looked up, lifted his hat, I bowed in return, and soon he was lost to my gaze. Towards evening I went out; the atmosphere was unusually sultry; and, without much caring where I went, I took the first path that offered itself, diverging from the main road, and walking, till presently I perceived the horizon getting darker and darker, the leaden clouds chasing one another and forming in masses more dense than I had ever seen them in my life. Flashes of lightning began to part them in furrows; the thunder roared, and torrents of rain poured as if all the sluices of heaven had opened their gates to submerge the world. I must own I felt frightened, and wished some one would come in sight.

On looking round I saw a dilapidated hut, and ran to it for shelter. It was empty, and the water had

already invaded it. A piece of wood large enough ta hold my feet served me for a pedestal, and leaning against the wall I waited until the warring of the elements should be over, before I ventured out. Not five minutes had elapsed when dogs bounded in, and a man entered, following them. At first he did not see me, but on one of the dogs barking, he turned and perceived the frightened statue against the wall. He bowed silently, and called his dogs away, remaining himself at the door to watch the grand spectacle I was afraid to look at. More than half an hour passed away, and at last the rain ceased.

"Madame," said he, advancing towards me, "you are far from home; the roads are now in a dreadful state: may I offer to escort you? It is now late, and you should not go unprotected."

"I fear it will be giving you much trouble," I replied, "but as I am not very brave, I willingly accept your offer."

We started, his dogs bounding before us, and I feeling excessively awkward. We walked without speaking until we arrived at a spot where we heard a splashing. The dogs were fording a deep ravine made by the torrents of rain. I had crossed the spot in coming, and it was then perfectly dry.

There was a position to find myself in! My companion looked at me and said:

"There is no alternative for you, Madame`; you must allow me to carry you across."

I suppose I looked rather dismayed; but after a

second, I knew I could not do otherwise than allow him to carry me as he would have done a child. When we were on safe ground I thanked him; he bowed without uttering a word, and we continued our way, but not quite so silently as heretofore. We spoke about the ugliness and dullness of the place, and at last we arrived at my aunt's "maisonnette."

"You are so wet," I said: "will you not come in?" "A thousand thanks, Madame, but I had better at once return to Beaupré. I must ford the ravine again, and therefore it is useless to attempt to get my clothes dried now. I sincerely hope you will not find yourself the worse for your disagreeable walk."

And without waiting any longer, he bowed and was gone.

Fanchette was looking out, and my aunt was in a dreadful fright, but when they saw me safe and lively their terrors ceased, and I had to relate my adventure, not, however, before I had drank some famous cordial of Fanchette's making.

The next day my unknown knight called to inquire after my health, and old Fanchette-who took a fancy to him-insisted on his coming in. He made himself so agreeable to Mademoiselle Aymar, that she actually asked him to come and play piquet with her when he had nothing better to do; he accepted the invitation, and became almost a daily visitor.

"You have never asked me my name," said he once to my aunt, "or why I live in this wild sort of way. I think I may feel sure that my secret will be

faithfully kept, and I will therefore divulge to you that by the orders of Bonaparte I was sentenced to be exiled, for having spoken too frankly on the subject of the Court of the Tuileries; but I managed to escape, and came here unknown to any one, except my cousin, the Baron de Meilhan, who has given me permission to take up my abode at Beaupré. My name is De Belfonds; and, although I know you are both staunch Bonapartists, I am certain you will not betray me."

My aunt and I promised to keep his secret religiously.

Two months elapsed in perfect intimacy; and one afternoon, to our great surprise and regret, Monsieur de Belfonds came to bid us farewell. Through the intercession of some friend he had been forgiven, and was returning to Paris, where, he said, he hoped some day to renew our acquaintance. We all missed him, Fanchette included, for he was kindly disposed, and a gentleman in every sense of the word.

My life became infinitely more tedious than it had been before, and I made up my mind to change my mode of living, by thinking more of others than I had hitherto done, and by following the example of the two good old women I was living with. My aunt, with her very limited means, did much good; I, with my large ones, did nothing; that is to say, I would give any amount of money that was asked of me; but in that, following Mademoiselle de Ferval's ways, I never inquired where and

how I could do good. With her, however, it was ostentation-with me, carelessness and indifference; not that I was devoid of kindly feelings, but they had not been properly developed.

I therefore went to the old curé, and told him how much I wished to do something for the poor peasants, and he encouraged me to visit all his parishioners. They were not exactly poor, because their wants were so few; still, I could do a vast amount among them, and I soon found how pleasant it was to help one's fellow-creatures. To one I would give a cow, to another a vineyard, buy a piece of ground for another to cultivate, and so on. Their gratefulness was very great, and repaid me amply for the little I had done; but, as the old curé had said,

"Do not make them rich, for then they would be wretched; only give them enough to enable them to live honestly by their work, for idleness would engender all sorts of vices, which are as yet unknown in this place."

I also portioned several young girls at their marriage; furnished their cottages, giving them thus the means of beginning life in a tolerably prosperous manner; and on leaving the country, I left to the old priest an annuity, to endow one or two couples every year, as the case might be.

Thus engaged in visiting the peasants, I spent a more happy time; it was not, however, of long duration; my aunt, whose health had been getting worse every day, was found, one morning, dead in her bed,