my father when he entered alone. Perhaps, however, it is chained.
But if it is indeed chained, then there would be no danger for me. What
can it be? A prisoner? My father is good, he would not deprive any
unfortunate innocent of light and liberty. Well, I absolutely must
discover this mystery. How shall I manage it? If I could only secretly
get the key from my father for a half hour! Perhaps some day he will
forget it."

Rosalie was aroused from this chain of reflection by her father, who
called to her with a strangely agitated voice.

"Here, father--I am coming."

She entered the house and looked steadily at her father. His pale, sad
countenance indicated great agitation.

More than ever curious, she resolved to feign gaiety and indifference in
order to allay her father's suspicions and make him feel secure. In this
way she thought she might perhaps obtain possession of the key at some
future time. He might not always think of it if she herself seemed to
have forgotten it.

They seated themselves at the table. Prudent ate but little and was sad
and silent, in spite of his efforts to appear gay. Rosalie, however,
seemed so thoughtless and bright that her father at last recovered his
accustomed good spirits.

Rosalie would be fifteen years old in three weeks. Her father had
promised an agreeable surprise for this event. A few days passed
peacefully away. There remained but fifteen days before her birth-day.
One morning Prudent said to Rosalie:--

"My dear child, I am compelled to be absent for one hour. I must go out
to arrange something for your birth-day. Wait for me in the house, my
dear. Do not yield yourself up to idle curiosity. In fifteen days you
will know all that you desire to know, for I read your thoughts and I
know what occupies your mind. Adieu, my daughter, beware of curiosity!"

Prudent embraced his daughter tenderly and withdrew, leaving her with
great reluctance.

As soon as he was out of sight, Rosalie ran to her father's room and
what was her joy to see the key forgotten upon the table! She seized it
and ran quickly to the end of the park. Arrived at the little house, she
remembered the words of her father, "Beware of curiosity!" She
hesitated, and was upon the point of returning the key without having
looked at the house, when she thought she heard a light groan. She put
her ear against the door and heard a very little voice singing softly:--

"A lonely prisoner I pine,
No hope