like a silver star."

"If you will not have your cabin removed, _Grosse tante_, then come
live with me. Old Hatton has wanted work at Place-du-Bois, the longest
time. We will have him build you a room wherever you choose, a pretty
little house like those in the city."

"_Non--non, Tite maitresse, Marie Louise 'pre crever icite ave tous
son butin, si faut_" (no, no, _Tite maitresse_, Marie Louise will die
here with all her belongings if it must be).

The servants were instructed that when their mistress was not at home
at a given hour, her absence should cause no delay in the household
arrangements. She did not choose that her humor or her movements be
hampered by a necessity of regularity which she owed to no one. When
she reached home supper had long been over.

Nearing the house she heard the scraping of Nathan's violin, the noise
of shuffling feet and unconstrained laughter. These festive sounds
came from the back veranda. She entered the dining-room, and from its
obscurity looked out on a curious scene. The veranda was lighted by a
lamp suspended from one of its pillars. In a corner sat Nathan;
serious, dignified, scraping out a monotonous but rhythmic minor
strain to which two young negroes from the lower quarters--famous
dancers--were keeping time in marvelous shuffling and pigeon-wings;
twisting their supple joints into astonishing contortions and the
sweat rolling from their black visages. A crowd of darkies stood at a
respectful distance an appreciative and encouraging audience. And
seated on the broad rail of the veranda were Melicent and Gregoire,
patting Juba and singing a loud accompaniment to the breakdown.

Was this the Gregoire who had only yesterday wept such bitter tears on
his aunt's bosom?

Therese turning away from the scene, the doubt assailed her whether it
were after all worth while to strive against the sorrows of life that
can be so readily put aside.

V

One Afternoon.

Whatever may have been Torpedo's characteristics in days gone by, at
this advanced period in his history he possessed none so striking as a
stoical inaptitude for being moved. Another of his distinguishing
traits was a propensity for grazing which he was prone to indulge at
inopportune moments. Such points taken in conjunction with a gait
closely resembling that of the camel in the desert, might give much
cause to wonder at Therese's motive in recommending him as a suitable
mount for the unfortunate Fanny,