tion his name to me will be to insult me; De Beaurepaire
I am, and a Frenchwoman. Come, dear, let us go down and comfort our
mother."

They went down; and this patient sufferer, and high minded conqueror, of
her own accord took up a commonplace book, and read aloud for two mortal
hours to her mother and Aubertin. Her voice only wavered twice.

To feel that life is ended; to wish existence, too, had ceased; and so
to sit down, an aching hollow, and take a part and sham an interest in
twaddle to please others; such are woman's feats. How like nothing at
all they look!

A man would rather sit on the buffer of a steam-engine and ride at the
Great Redan.

Rose sat at her elbow, a little behind her, and turned the leaves, and
on one pretence or other held Josephine's hand nearly all the rest of
the day. Its delicate fibres remained tense, like a greyhound's sinews
after a race, and the blue veins rose to sight in it, though her voice
and eyes were mastered.

So keen was the strife, so matched the antagonists, so hard the victory.

For ire and scorn are mighty. And noble blood in a noble heart is
heroic. And Love is a giant.

CHAPTER II.

The French provinces were now organized upon a half military plan, by
which all the local authorities radiated towards a centre of government.
By-the-by, this feature has survived subsequent revolutions and
political changes.

In days of change, youth is at a premium; because, though experience is
valuable, the experience of one order of things unfits ordinary men for
another order of things. So a good many old fogies in office were shown
the door, and a good deal of youth and energy infused into the veins of
provincial government. For instance, Edouard Riviere, who had but just
completed his education with singular eclat at a military school, was
one fine day ordered into Brittany to fill a responsible post under
Commandant Raynal, a blunt, rough soldier, that had risen from the
ranks, and bore a much higher character for zeal and moral integrity
than for affability.

This officer was the son of a widow that kept a grocer's shop in Paris.
She intended him for spice, but he thirsted for glory, and vexed her. So
she yielded, as mothers will.

In the armies of the republic a good soldier rose with unparalleled
certainty, and rapidity, too; for when soldiers are being mowed down
like oats, it is a glorious time for such of them as keep their feet.
Raynal mounted fast, and