d stick on the floor.

"And so," cried she in that haughty tone adopted by women of
aristocratic lineage when addressing a supposed inferior, "you have, I
hear, had the impudence to make love to my niece?"

Andre's pale face grew crimson as he stammered out,--

"Madame--"

"Gracious powers, fellow!" cried the angry woman, "do you dare to
deny this when your very face betrays you? Do you know that you are an
insolent rogue even to venture to look on Sabine de Mussidan? How dare
you! Perhaps you thought that if you compromised her, we should be
forced to submit to this ignoble alliance."

"On my honor, madame, I assure you--"

"On your honor! To hear you speak, one would suppose that you were a
gentleman. If my poor husband were alive, he would break every bone in
your body; but I am satisfied with ordering you out of the house. Pick
up your tools, and be off at once."

Andre stood as though petrified into stone. He took no notice of her
imperious manner, but only realized the fact that he should never see
Sabine again, and, turning deadly pale, staggered to a chair. The
old lady was so surprised at the manner in which Andre received her
communication, that for a time she too was bewildered, and could not
utter a word.

"I am unfortunately of a violent temper," said she, speaking in more
gentle accents, "and perhaps I have spoken too severely, for I am much
to blame in this matter, as the priest of Berron said when he came to
inform me of what was going on. I am so old that I forgot what happens
when young people are thrown together, and I was the only one who did
not know what was going on when you were affording subject of gossip for
the whole countryside; my niece--"

But here Andre started to his feet with a threatening look upon his
face.

"I could strangle them all," cried he.

"That is right," returned the old lady, secretly pleased at his vigor
and energy, "but you cannot silence every idle tongue. Fortunately,
matters have not gone too far. Go away, and forget my niece."

She might as well have told the young man to go away and die.

"Madame!" cried he in accents of despair, "pray listen to me. I am
young, and full of hope and courage."

The old lady was so touched by his evident sorrow, that the tears rolled
down her wrinkled cheeks.

"What is the good of saying this to me?" asked she. "Sabine is not my
daughter. All that I can do is never to say a word to her father and
mother. Great heavens