None but a very apt engineer with a military training kind of a person, perhaps unaccustomed to general could have made that very neat tracing." society." Here, dear Clémence, I would have given a good Pauline, if I sent for him it might be noticed. deal to stay, but the general dismissed me and re- You and I will saunter out, and you will take me to tained M. Percival. I saw the general at dinner, and the billiard-room." So, unobserved, the general and he sat beside me. Papa was at his best, and was the I left the drawing-room, walked across the courtlife of the table, but my godfather seemed absorbed. yard, a mere step to the billiard room, and, sure M. de Valbois was polite and courteous as usual, | enough, there was M. Percival, but M. de Valbois madame dignified and slightly incisive. M. Percival was there too. has his meals always served him in his room, and has "I will engage M. de Valbois in conversation," not yet honored us with his company. When dinner said the general, indicating M. Raoul, who was listwas over we had coffee, as usual, in the small draw-lessly knocking the billiard-balls about, while you ing-room overlooking the lawn. A dozen people had will please say to your contre-maître that I should come in, officials from the mairie, some of our neigh-feel obliged to him if he would come to the library bors, and there was a sprinkling of officers. I went at once. You will also be good enough to intimate to the piano to play something, preparatory to whist, to him that he had better not mention to any one for the general and papa have an interminable game my having sent for him." which has lasted for twenty years. The servants had But, dear godfather-" I should have dearranged the card-tables, when an officer came in clined, but the general's manner was very imperative, and presented a dispatch to the general. My god- so I reluctantly obeyed. I felt very awkward and father was at the table, and was in the act of cut- embarrassed, which, I suppose, may excuse the first ting for a partner-I could see that, for M. de Val-words I said to M. Percival, which were-" Monsieur bois was turning over for me the leaves of a nocturne, | Percival does not play billiards?" The man looked as he is an excellent musician-when the general rose, excused himself, came to me, and begged M. de Valbois to take his place at the table. But Madame de Valbois had already occupied the position. I fancied I knew the reason why. It was because she wanted Raoul to be with me. The gen eral read the dispatch—a brief one, apparently-by the candles at my piano. Of course, my nocturne came to a full stop. M. de Valbois left me in a minute, and went out of the drawing-room as if annoyed. I think I made a happy escape, for, somehow or other, I fancied the grande affaire was coming. I went on playing again, when my godfather gently put one of his hands on mine and said: "My little Pauline, I have a service to ask you. What about this M. Percival? Who is he?" "I assure you I do not know, save that he is papa's head-man, and that he places all confidence in him," I replied. "An American?" "Yes; though I have never exchanged a dozen words with him." I was surprised at the interest the general had taken in our contre-maître. man. Pauline, I want more information from the He has what we call a topographical head, and a knowledge of this country and of that across the river would be of great use to me, especially at this moment. Is he still-mouthed? Does he know how to hold his tongue?" "Hold his tongue? Certainly he does, since he has never opened his mouth to me. But papa says he is a tomb of secrets. I assure you, though, I never had any confidences to impart to him," I added, with a laugh. "Where is he now?" "How should I know, general ? Usually he smokes a cigar after his dinner, in the billiard-room, especially when nobody is there, as is probably the case just now. M. Percival is rather a misanthropic VOL. III- -8 amazed. “Oh, pardon me!" I added; "that was so very stupid on my part; how can you play billiards, having but one- Here I came to a full stop. But my curiosity got the better of me, and I asked him : "Would you tell me, sir, what Général de Frail, one of the ablest of our French officers, has found so interesting in my father's contre-maître as to be closeted with him for fully two hours to-day?" "I can scarcely imagine, Mademoiselle Delange; but since you do me the honor of asking, I suppose the questions put to me by the general were precisely of such a character as an able man in the profession of arms would ask of any one who knew something about the roads in the neighborhood relative to the movement, I fancy, of a column of soldiers "-and M. Percival here rose, and bowed to me, as if declining any further conversation. "Excuse my detaining you, sir; but this movement of soldiers will be on the railroad. Perhaps we will have a new road to build; then papa will have no end of contracts for rails and bridges." Scarcely," was Mr. Percival's reply. Hoy scarcely?" "It is no mission of peaceful enterprise which directs Général de Frail's attention." "What do you mean, then? Pray be less enigmatical." "I am not French, mademoiselle, and cannot feel exactly as you do. Perhaps you may think glory is everything." This speech piqued me, and I did not see that he had any business to find fault with my love of glory; so I said quite petulantly, Have you had glory enough in your own country?" " Plenty of it, and I shall remember it all my life, because I cannot play billiards." That speech of his humbled me for the moment, but then I thought it was, if not uncivil, at least unkind of him to recall what was nothing more than an inad vertency on my part. I commenced now to be maître in your father's factory, I am not employed in really displeased. a military capacity." "You are very sensitive, sir," I said. "Frenchmen do glory in such things; and what is an arm? It seems to me, though, that even with only one you have made yourself very useful to papa. But what do you mean by this pointed allusion to glory and France, which, thank Goodness, are inseparable?" M. Percival seemed to hesitate for a moment, when he blurted out : "War, mademoiselle, I am afraid, must be imminent, and as the iron-works and this château are very near the border, we shall be likely to suffer first." Here was a revelation. I did not like his placing the usine first in prominence, and the château afterward. But what he said shocked me. I held my peace for a moment, and looked at the general, and saw he was growing impatient. ་་ You, then, sir, who know about war-are you acquainted with its horrors?" I inquired. "I have been, mademoiselle." "The general asked me just now whether M. Percival had a certain amount of reticence, and I took upon myself the liberty to state that he possessed that talent, and here I have had told me the drift of certain suspicions in regard to the matter Général de Frail talked to him about." "Excuse me. Mademoiselle Pauline Delange asked me questions in such a personal way that I forgot myself. Had the general intimated secrecy, I would never have told you a word." He rose again, and took his hat this time. "It is well!" I said, rather triumphantly, imitating papa's manner. "Now the general wants you, probably in reference to the same subject. You can understand that you are to be silent about it. The general will be in the library. You will be good enough to go there at once." That was like papa all over, and I felt delighted to be authoritative. M. Percival looked at me amazed. You have no idea, Clémence, how amazed a man with a bandage around the top of his head can look. But presently a smile came over his face, and he laughed-not exactly at me, but still he laughed. It was infectious, his laughter, and I laughed myself, as my authoritative manner must have been a dead failure. I added, "Since you have been rather overbearing in your manner, I hope the general will keep you closeted all night with him for a punishment." "Who I overbearing, mademoiselle? Your wish is a very unkind one, for my head aches now almost to splitting." "Are you for the Germans?" I asked, quite excitedly. "My sympathies are my own, and I am not bound to give them publicity-only, mademoiselle, I protest against your right, or anybody's, even your father's, as to ordering me to do anything which does not belong to my particular duties; then, besides, the fate of France"-and here he smiled rather maliciously-" might depend upon my being bright or stupid to-night, or on the contents of a camphorbottle." Evidently M. Percival was now laughing at me. "Then you would in cold blood," I hotly said, "stand upon some high-flown principle of honorwhich for the life of me I cannot understand-and see the château sacked and your dear usine burned, and papa ruined, because you did not exactly understand all the phases of the question?" Then I thought I was making too serious a matter about it, and giving the contre-maître too great importance. I felt, though, for the first time, some vague, dread feeling of alarm at what might happen. Papa had declared that the idea of war with the Prussians was impossible. "I have balanced the matter in my mind," said M. Percival," and the scale just barely descends in favor of the usine. I owe a great deal to M. Delange. I should grieve if anything impaired his fortune." "The usine again! and the château and its inmates!" I exclaimed, provoked at the cold-bloodedness of the man. "What are these handsome grounds, this old château, when compared to whole square leagues of land trampled under foot, and women and children beggared, and turned out to starve and die?" "You are tragic, sir-rather an alarmist!" but he had scared me. I have kept this letter by me, Clémence. I commenced it yesterday, and can only finish it for the late mail. Last night I could see the light burning in the general's quarters until almost dawn. Général de Frail and M. Percival must have been at it all night. Half a dozen times I heard the clatter of horses' feet in the court-yard. Once I saw a courier ride in at break-neck speed, and leave as rapidly as he came. At breakfast this morning papa looked grave, M. de Valbois anxious, and Madame de Valbois was in tears. There is a whole batch of letters coming in-regrets on the part of our intended guests, and the reason is the terrible nature of the events. At last! I have laid violent hands on a journal papa tried to hide from me. It is war. My God! and was the contre-maître right? The general came down late to breakfast. He was gay and pleasant, moiselle, not being a Frenchman, and only a contre- | and cracked his jokes at my expense. Pauline, from "Well, you will find some camphor-water on the second shelf of the library to the right of the door. I put it there for papa when he suffers from neuralgia. I am sorry for you. I had indeed forgotten that you had received quite a severe blow on the head. It is better, I trust." "Oh, quite well," he continued. 'But, made see the Vosges Mountains, standing out blue and gray her knowledge of the country, was to have a staffappointment; and, as there had been a Jeanne d'Arc, there might be a Pauline de St.-Eloi. He asked me if I had ever seen twenty-five thousand men on their march, and he assured me that, if I would mount my horse to-day and go forth with him to the very bridge we had a dispute about, at precisely one o'clock, military time, I could see a whole corps d'armée on an advance. He would like me to come, he said, first to give him my opinion as to the appearance of the troops, and then it might be pleasant for me to bid him good-by, for he was to command the division. My dear old general's manner reassured us all, and his joking made papa smile. It seems we are to run the works to their utmost capac-eral, looking at his watch. "We are in good time. ity day and night. We received this morning a con- That little American told me of an elevation, just tract for shot and shell, and all the gun-barrels we here, big enough to hold a single battery, which comcan forge. Papa says it will amount to some mill- pletely covered the approaches to the road; and, sure ions of francs. M. de Valbois is for the first time enough, there it is, and there is the clump of trees apparently excited, but has very kindly attempt- which would mask it. Your contre-maître has deed to allay my anxieties. He has two uncles in cidedly a military coup-d'œil. Pauline, push on your the service, and Madame de Valbois is in tears little horse, and see which of us two can scramble up over them. In a moment of nervous excitement first." she said to me, "My dear Pauline, how glad you should be that Raoul has not assumed the career of arms!" The general told us, since we had the initiative, that was half the battle. It seems, then, everything has been arranged, ready sprung for an emergency. My maid Babette is wild with excitement, and wants to fight herself, and the next moment is in tears about a certain Jean Baptiste, a good lad I know, who is in the artillery, and to whom she is engaged. M. Percival I have not seen. Papa says the contre-maître is at work again, and that during some days (for papa goes to Paris by the same train which takes this letter) M. Percival will have entire direction. Evidently the danger of an inroad from our enemies the Prussians is remote, quite impossible, or papa would never have left me. But, Clémence, what if I should see war with all its horrors? It was eleven o'clock to-day when the general, with M. de Valbois, some twenty officers, and as many gentlemen from the neighborhood, left the château of St.-Eloi. We were quite a cavalcade, for the general's escort-a company of Guides-joined us a mile from St.-Eloi. We had some two leagues to go, and we all cantered along at a pleasant speed. It was a lovely day, such as one sees only in this dear country. Every field was blooming, and all seemed hushed in quiet repose. Great fields of colza stretched away, and broad spaces were covered with tobacco-plants. In the meadows the lazy cattle gazed at us as we clattered down the road. There was a gentle breeze, which kept off the dust, just swaying the trees, and the tall poplars rustled so pleasantly. Occasionally, as we passed, groups of peasants working in the fields would stop from their labors, and the women would courtesy to us, while the men would doff their hats, and gaze at our gallant appearance, and cry out in their patois, "Vive la France!" The sweet odors of the freshlycut hay pervaded the air with fragrance. Away off in the distance-for the day was so clear-we could I spoke to my horse, who with a bound took the lead, and I was first. I think the general played me false, for he held in his charger, then dismounted, and was soon surrounded by a group of officers. He drew out a note-book, and commenced writing, and then he addressed an officer, who wrote under his dictation. It was grand to look down from where I was at the little military assemblage below me. The escort had dismounted, and had formed themselves into picturesque groups. Presently the general, M.. de Valbois, and a major, the head of the staff, came to me, and they all helped me to alight. It was precisely one o'clock by the major's watch. But no signs of the troops were visible. The general gave an order, and some half-dozen cavalrymen were in the saddle in a second, and in an instant more were out of sight. M. de Valbois and the officer talked to me, while I pointed out to the major the Vosges hills, and called them each by name. It was halfpast one now, and, though the major used a formidable kind of opera - glass, no cloud of dust was visible in the distance. The general became impatient. I had been wise enough to think of luncheon, and the contents of the baskets M. de Valbois's groom and mine had brought were soon disposed of, but the general would not touch a morsel. was smoking," he said, "and had no appetite." The fact is, the general was in a terrible rage, all the worse because it was smothered. It was not one of those temporary gusts which papa indulges in, but something of the most concentrated character. The staff, apparently knowing his mood, kept aloof from him. Presently he called a captain and a lieutenant to him, and in a half-dozen brief words, which snapped like the crack of a whip, told them to "ride on all day, if necessary, until they met the column." Off they started at full speed, at a break-neck pace, both gentlemen jumping their horses over a high hedge. It was almost half-past two before these officers came back, all covered with dust, and their "He horses flecked with foam. Faintly, now, ever so oppressed. I had been over-excited, I suppose, and felt exhausted. The atmosphere might have had something to do with it, for a storm was gathering in the Vosges away off in the distance. Presently we heard the faint reverberation of the thunder, and I trembled so-who am not a nervous woman-that I checked my horse. It was God's artillery and not man's. M. de Valbois urged speed, in order to escape the rain, which we could see driving up from the hills, and we pushed our horses. Just as we got to the château the rain came down in torrents. I rushed into the house to give papa the general's parting words, but he was gone. I had forgotten his intended departure. I have passed a dreary evening with Madame de Valbois, whose presence seems to depress me. It appears that Madame de Valbois's mother saw the horrors of 1815, and the lady must needs tell them all to me. The whole of France is only interesting to Madame de Valbois as having to do with her or her son's interests, or those of the De Valbois. M. Raoul had gone to St.-Eloi to hear the news. I have pleaded my unfinished letter to you as an excuse to be alone. And now, dear Clémence, I have just time to finish this, and send it by André. Somehow, if I commenced this gayly, I feel in wretched spirits to-night. My kindest regards to M. de Montfriand. For ever and ever, PAULINE. (Madame de Montfriand to Pauline Delange.) PARIS, July, 1870. 'My dear Pauline," said the general, “it is true the tenue of the men is superb, but, though it all looks so very fine, the division is exactly two hours and five minutes too late-behind time-and I will have to punish some one severely. Now, my child, good-by, and God bless you! When the war is over, we will certainly see one another.-M. de Valbois, I wish you a good-day.-Pauline, kiss your father for me. Pauline, it is a common saying that one can't have an omelet without breaking eggs; and rest assured we are going to give and receive no end of hard knocks. -Ah! here come some brave old friends of mine;' and the general pointed to a regiment, and he showed me its flag. “I commanded some of those men in the Crimea, and we have known what it was to suffer and to be happy together. It is almost my family, for that is my old regiment. I carried that flag when I was a stripling-those same shreds of silk." Here my godfather unbent for the first time, removing his képi as the men shouted out his "Now, Pauline, my darling, good-by, and may God bless you! We shall see each other again;" and he kissed me tenderly, and I felt a tear on his brave old face. The general's staff then bade me adieu, and took their places in the column, their chief at their head. Dear general! He stood up in his stirrups, looking at me over the tops of the guns, waved his hand to me, and then he disappeared in a bend of the road. It would have been fully two hours before the rear-guard could have passed us. Now M. de Valbois and some three other gentlemen made up the party. We did not wait to see the last of the soldiers. As we turned bridle to go homeward I felt very much like crying. We came home slowly. Still the sweet scent of the clover was in the air, but it gave me a headache. I Nonsense, child, about your aristocratic do not think I said anything to M. Raoul, who rode friends! Though the Du Parcs trace their origin alongside of me, save to answer him in monosyl- back to the Crusades (the Montfriands were only a lables. In fact, we all, I fancy, were more or less | goodish family, just emerging from obscurity in the name. row. MY PAULINE: I can fancy your alarm. That you are nervous and excited, I can readily understand. Instantly on receipt of your letter I saw my father, and it is all arranged. M. de Montfriand will call on M. Delange to-day, in order to urge your immediate departure from St.-Eloi. You must come to Paris and live with us. If war has its misfortunes, it shall serve at least to reunite us. There, poor little dear, the whole matter is concluded. Of course, it is a serious business-for the Prussians. My eldest brother, the colonel of Spahis, arrived here yesterday from Algiers, and leaves for the Rhine to-morHe has an appointment in Général de Frail's division, and your acquaintance with this gallant officer may be of use to the colonel. I spoke to my brother about St.-Eloi, and he laughed away my tears. That part of Alsace, he assures me, is just where our French torrent will pour out which must submerge Germany. He told me that all the risk you would run would be to have your old château filled with our officers, and that in a week from now there would not be a chicken or a turkey or a goose on your farms, because the gallant French soldier would have exterminated them. My dear Pauline, there is no danger. I read to mamma that portion of your letter in regard to Madame de Valbois, and what she said of mamma, and mamma feels quite compli mented. am your best and dearest friend. You always reflected on the surface what was in your heart. That is why, in this insincere and hollow world, I always loved you. Long ago I went to that school of manners where feelings are concealed. Come, come, Pauline, forgive me if I have wounded you; but I am a little afraid about you, not as to any risks the war can bring to the gentle châtelaine of St.-Eloi, but because cooped up with Madame de Valbois, and having M. Raoul de Valbois en grippe, at least for the present, you might become pensive, melancholy, or, what is worse, fall in love with the wrong man. Your father dines with us to-day, and he shall fix the day of your departure from St.-Eloi. Now I dismiss the subject. My brother says we must bivouac in Berlin, under the lindens, in a month from now at the very farthest. No power in Europe can withstand the valor of our soldiers. All France is in arms, and the glories of the first empire will pale before the wonderful fortunes of Napoleon III. My father leaves shortly for Italy on a diplomatic mission, and my husband accompanies him; so you see, Pauline, how much I shall want your company. It is said that, notwithstanding the war, the season will be a gay one. Your provincial toilet will. want refurbishing when you come; you shall have the full benefit of my experience. The smoke of your forges has certainly got into your handsome head, and given you such strange ideas that I almost think a little gunpowder in the distance will help to clear up your mental atmosphere. Come, then, to Paris, and the strong walls of the city shall protect you, as will the loving arms of beginning of the last century), you, Pauline, are worth ten times more than I, having a truer nobility of soul. But, my Pauline-but what is all this you write me about some contre-maître, a M. Percival | and his dog Bobe? Take care! I do not like Americans at least those from North America. Passe donc, for those hailing from South America, who are more like Spaniards or Italians, less their originality; but there is an assumption about these people from the United States which is annoying at times, because we can never place them. Imagine a youth we met in the Pyrenees last year, living en prince, a gentleman spending his money in the most lavish way, the leader of the hunting-parties, the whole place, in fact, at his beck and call, a ravishing dancer, a breaker of hearts withal, who turned out to be a commis voyageur in a silk or dry-goods house in New York, the rival of our petit St.-Thomas! You never can know who they are. You seem honestly, Pauline, to be just a little entichée about your dog and his former master. Imprimis, send back the dog. I have so little sympathy for your caniche that, should M. Raoul de Valbois's Persian hound swallow him, I should admire all the more Bobe's mausoleum. Suppose a contre-maître does happen to have ridden on top of a wagon loaded with old iron, does that constitute him a remarkable personage? He may have lost his arm by some mechanical mishap. Are you to fall in love with all the one-armed or onelegged mer? Suppose he did have his head broken in your father's service, is he not paid just in proportion to the risks he runs? Pauline! Pauline ! are you not rehearsing, all to yourself, a certain quite pretty story, entitled "The Romance of a Poor Young Man?" You and I read it once together, en cachette, at school, and do you remember we borrowed it from that very Miss Smeef? I asked mamma about | (From Hugh Percival to George Terhune, of New M. Raoul de Valbois, and she sounded his praises, and assured me that she had always understood that M. de Valbois was some day or other destined to make you, my Pauline, happy. There is nothing of the inevitable about this! I am two years older than you, ma mie, and might presume, not as much on my seniority as on my position as a married woman. School-girl romances are dropped with pain au confitures. As to M. Raoul de Valbois, if you have not exactly a community of sympathy, your fortunes are alike, your ages approximate (M. de Montfriand is twelve years my senior, and I scarcely knew him before my marriage). So, Pauline, take happiness, even if it is thrust on you. Mamma, too, extols Madame de Valbois, as possessing many amiable qualities, which perhaps you may have overlooked. Now, I pause just here, and, as I read over my last two or three paragraphs, I fear I may unwittingly have been dreadfully officious, and may have presented to you matters in quite an unwarrantable light. This M. Percival may be nothing more to you than any other workman. But, Pauline, under your calm exterior I fancy at times I discover something like a tête exaltée. I even imagine I see certain womanly indications - weaknesses, Pauline, such as spring from a heart which knows no guile, at least for me-I who Your very best friend, CLEMENCE DE MONTFRIAND. York.) ST.-ELOI, VOSGES, FRANCE, July -, 1870. MY DEAR GEORGE: It must now be fully eight months since I wrote to you, telling you that I had obtained a position at the iron-works here. I am better both in mind and body. It will take, though, a long time before the remembrance of all I have lost, that sad void in my life, will pass out of my mind. Perhaps if I had been left for dead at Cold Harbor it would have been better. Then I never would have learned that the woman I loved-your sister, George-perished when the false news of my death was carried to her. I must confess that the idea of my becoming a soldier of fortune, and of taking service in Egypt, never but half pleased me. I never wrote you how I happened to be in Alsace. It was my intention, with what small means I had left, to settle for a year or so in some quiet German university town, where there was a professor of Oriental languages, and acquire some of the more necessary Eastern tongues. Home was, if not distasteful, at least painful to me, who had lost the dear one who was to fill it. I had been advised to take a pedestrian tour, to cure a certain shakiness of nerves, and was trudging through Alsace, when I stumbled across M. Delange, the master of quite an extensive |