hat_ is," said Peter steadily, and looking back with
an eye as fierce as his master's--"the meaning of _that_ is, that when
nearly nineteen years ago I stood under St. Guillotine and vowed a vow,
I meant to keep it. That when Sara Dufarge--once Sara Dormeur--my loved
and lovely mistress, joined her husband--not by the guillotine, but by a
broken heart in a little country lodging at Nogent--she left her
child--_that_ child--to the nurse who had been faithful to her--to my
own good sister Nancy, who, bringing her to England when she and her
husband came to escape the troubles, found here another sister, the
widow Rondeau--childless--to whom came as a legacy that same little
orphaned one who lies now in her grandsire's chair."

Anton Dormeur stood and glared for a moment at the undaunted little old
man, who had thus kept a secret for eighteen years, though he had been
here in his service; but even in his bitter anger there came to him the
recollection of the stern relentless temper with which he had blotted
out his daughter's name from the family record; and, with a drooping
head and tears that fell fast on his furrowed cheeks, he went again and
knelt beside the girl, who now sat looking at them all with wide and
wondering eyes.

"Peter Dobree," he said presently, "go or send for your sister
Rondeau.--Antoine, dear lad, go you into the kitchen and see if any one
has come in; for we will have supper through all, and Sara, Sara, my
child, my little one, you must never leave me more."

"What! and are you, monsieur, truly my grandfather, and Monsieur Antoine
truly your grandson? Then he is--no, not my brother; what then?--But I
may kiss him?" said the wondering girl, as she stood the centre of a
talking group, apart from which stood the lad, who still looked at her
wistfully enough.

They broke into a laugh, at which she turned red as a rose, and with a
sudden gesture, which shot a pain to the old man's heart, for it was
that of her mother once again, turned away.

"Yes, but you may kiss him," said Anton gently, and leading her to where
Antoine stood--"a cousin's kiss, you know--have you learned what that
is?"

"No, I never had a cousin--at least, Antoine never kissed me," she said
simply, and held up her sweet face to the young man, who bent and
touched it with his lips.

------------------------------

"I do not think I need say any more; but that is the story of the Silver
Goblet," said our go