error were referred
to, without betraying the shock in her face and manner. Trudaine looked
saddened, but in no way surprised by what he saw. Making a sign to
Lomaque to say nothing, he rose and took up his sister's hood, which lay
on a window-seat near him.

"Come, Rose," he said, "the sun is shining, the sweet spring air is
inviting us out. Let us have a quiet stroll along the banks of the
stream. Why should we keep our good friend here cooped up in this narrow
little room, when we have miles and miles of beautiful landscape to
show him on the other side of the threshold? Come, it is high treason to
Queen Nature to remain indoors on such a morning as this."

Without waiting for her to reply, he put on her hood, drew her arm
through his, and led the way out. Lomaque's face grew grave as he
followed them.

"I am glad I only showed the bright side of my budget of news in her
presence," thought he. "She is not well at heart yet. I might have hurt
her, poor thing! I might have hurt her again sadly, if I had not held my
tongue!"

They walked for a little while down the banks of the stream, talking of
indifferent matters; then returned to the cottage. By that time Rose had
recovered her spirits, and could listen with interest and amusement
to Lomaque's dryly-humorous description of his life as a clerk at
Chalons-sur-Marne. They parted for a little while at the cottage door.
Rose retired to the upstairs room from which she had been summoned by
her brother. Trudaine and Lomaque returned to wander again along the
banks of the stream.

With one accord, and without a word passing between them, they left the
neighborhood of the cottage hurriedly; then stopped on a sudden, and
attentively looked each other in the face--looked in silence for an
instant. Trudaine spoke first.

"I thank you for having spared her," he began, abruptly. "She is not
strong enough yet to bear hearing of a new misfortune, unless I break
the tidings to her first."

"You suspect me, then, of bringing bad news?" said Lomaque.

"I know you do. When I saw your first look at her, after we were all
seated in the cottage parlor, I knew it. Speak without fear, without
caution, without one useless word of preface. After three years of
repose, if it pleases God to afflict us again, I can bear the trial
calmly; and, if need be, can strengthen her to bear it calmly, too. I
say again, Lomaque, speak at once, and speak out! I know your news is
bad, for I know b