even see Julie,
yet her beauty and her art gradually resumed their empire over him. They
were married at Courtroi, and to the joy of the vain Julie departed to
the gay metropolis of France. But, before their departure, before his
marriage, St. Amand endeavoured to appease his conscience by obtaining
for M. le Tisseur a much more lucrative and honourable office than that
he now held. Rightly judging that Malines could no longer be a pleasant
residence for them, and much less for Lucille, the duties of the post
were to be fulfilled in another town; and knowing that M. le Tisseur's
delicacy would revolt at receiving such a favour from his hands, he kept
the nature of his negotiation a close secret, and suffered the honest
citizen to believe that his own merits alone had entitled him to so
unexpected a promotion.

Time went on. This quiet and simple history of humble affections took
its date in a stormy epoch of the world,--the dawning Revolution of
France. The family of Lucille had been little more than a year settled
in their new residence when Dumouriez led his army into the Netherlands.
But how meanwhile had that year passed for Lucille? I have said that her
spirit was naturally high; that though so tender, she was not weak. Her
very pilgrimage to Cologne alone, and at the timid age of seventeen,
proved that there was a strength in her nature no less than a devotion
in her love. The sacrifice she had made brought its own reward.
She believed St. Amand was happy, and she would not give way to the
selfishness of grief; she had still duties to perform; she could still
comfort her parents and cheer their age; she could still be all the
world to them: she felt this, and was consoled. Only once during the
year had she heard of Julie; she had been seen by a mutual friend at
Paris, gay, brilliant, courted, and admired; of St. Amand she heard
nothing.

My tale, dear Gertrude, does not lead me through the harsh scenes of
war. I do not tell you of the slaughter and the siege, and the blood
that inundated those fair lands,--the great battlefield of Europe. The
people of the Netherlands in general were with the cause of Dumouriez,
but the town in which Le Tisseur dwelt offered some faint resistance to
his arms. Le Tisseur himself, despite his age, girded on his sword; the
town was carried, and the fierce and licentious troops of the conqueror
poured, flushed with their easy victory, through its streets. Le
Tisseur's house was