Oh, noble sir, be not angry with me! I shall always lament the loss of such a father-in-law, I was so proud of becoming your daughter. May I not still be as a daughter to you? May I not dare to hope that you will permit me to come and see you? Will you not kindly allow me to come and be your nurse if ever you should be ill?

to you will ever have the deepest interest for me.'

All that relates

Munck was much affected at the fair girl's appeal. He raised her, and embraced her affectionately. He soon after left the house, but not until he had promised to maintain a friendly acquaintance with the Svendsen family.

Helena was much exhausted, and by her uncle's advice, she immediately retired for the night, her mother and Marie following her to her room, and assisting her to divest herself of all her bridal paraphernalia. She begged her mother to send early next morning for her embroideryframe, her book-case, and all the little matters belonging to her that had been removed to the house she was to have occupied, and let them all be put back in their former places, "so that everything," she said, "may stand as it used to do, and I may fancy, when I wake to-morrow morning, that all the events of the last eight months were but a dream."

A few days after Mr. Svendsen called on Count Munck. He handed over to him the casket of jewels which had been presented to his daughter. "These ought to remain in your family," said he. "But permit me now to speak on another subject. I honour and love you do not be offended at the freedom of the expression-as I would a much-respected brother."

"I entertain exactly the same sentiments towards you," said the count, cordially shaking his hand.

66

If that be the case," cried Svendsen, "allow me to entreat a proof of your regard."

"With all my heart," replied the count.

"Well then," continued Svendsen, "Fortune has favoured me much lately. Two ships of mine have arrived after most successful voyages, and business has been most prosperous. Now as to this document" (he drew from his pocket the bond Falkenstierne had got him to sign), “I can't bear to see it; I feel as if it burns me when I touch it. You are so surrounded with honours that nothing can add to them, I am but a humble individual; yet let me hope that you will condescend to oblige me; and if you would wish to do that, take this paper from me, and give it to your stepson. I feel that he has still a claim loved him so well."

upon me since my daughter

Touched by his goodness, Count Munck warmly thanked Mr. Svendsen. "But," he added, "I cannot undertake your generous commission. Put yourself in my place. I have loved Alexander as a father; he was brought up in my house. I will not endeavour to offer any excuse for him, but a parent's affection will cling even to an unworthy child. No, my dear sir, I could not humiliate him so deeply."

"Then do me the honour to accept this money yourself," said Svend"You can then assist your son with it, and yet not humiliate

sen.

him."

"Would he not easily guess whence it came?" said Munck. "If ever

I have need myself of pecuniary assistance I will apply to you, trusting to your kindness-to no one else. But for him I cannot accept anything."

Mr. Svendsen regretted much the result of his interview with Count Munck. In relating it to Volmand afterwards, he said:

"I would so gladly have helped that Falkenstierne. I really feel as if I were someway connected to him, although he has not become my sonin-law."

Volmand replied with a sarcastic smile:

"Provide the money, and hand it over to me; I warrant you I will find a way to dispose of it according to your desire."

The same day the Countess Matilda, accompanied by Gustavus, arrived in town. She went straight to Helena, spoke a long time in private with her, and from this period a sincere friendship sprang up between Helena and that amiable lady. She told the desponding girl that it was on her account alone she had come up from Lindenborg, and she invited her to accompany her back to that lovely and peaceful abode. The kind invitation was accepted with pleasure, and her parents promised to come and fetch her home after a time. Soothed by the tender attentions of real friendship, enlivened by refined and agreeable society, and invigorated by the fresh breezes of the early spring, Helena's health and spirits equally began to recover.

What became of Count Falkenstierne's diplomatic mission? Whether one had been really offered to him, or whether the assertion was a poetical fiction of the moment when he felt at a loss what to say, certain it was that no more was heard of it. However, owing to Count Munck's influence and efforts, his affairs were to a certain extent arranged, and it was settled that he should go abroad for a few years.

Gustavus, who, in consequence of a conversation he had had with Volmand, had returned to town, came one morning to Falkenstierne, and said:

"I know some worthy people who take an interest in you, without being at all connected to you. And with their help I shall happily have it in my power to furnish you with the means of paying your creditors, if you will give me a list of your debts."

The count looked keenly at him, while he replied:

"You shall have the list to-morrow."

"Further," continued Gustavus, " they will give you a credit upon certain banks in the principal towns of the countries you intend to visit, so that you can travel with comfort."

The count laughed, and said:

"Do you fancy me, now, such a blockhead as not to know right well who the worthy people' are, or rather who the worthy person is? You would make but a sorry diplomatist. However, it is all one to me. Tell what story you please about having thrown dust in my eyes. I should accept the money were it ten times as much. It is but a slender compensation for the disgraceful manner in which I was treated."

Twelve months had elapsed since the day of the interrupted wedding. Helena had spent a great portion of that time at Lindenborg. The snowdrops and violets had scarcely begun to announce the return of spring the following year, before Countess Matilda had sent for her young friend.

Her parents had escorted her into the country, and returned home again. Volmand soon after joined the little circle at Lindenborg.

One day, when he entered the boudoir of the countess, he found her standing at a window, and apparently so absorbed in thought that she did not observe his approach until he accosted her, asking what so entirely occupied her attention.

"Look at our young favourites," replied the countess, "they are coming yonder through the alley of trees."

Volmand looked, and saw Gustavus and Helena approaching arm-inarm. The young man leaned down towards his lovely companion with eyes that beamed with joy. Helena met his look with a happy and affectionate smile. They seemed to be engaged in some deeply interesting conversation.

Volmand took the Countess Matilda's hand:

"Dear friend," he exclaimed, "my wishes are the same as yours, are they not ?"

66

Yes," she replied, "my most earnest wishes. But," she added, as she turned from the window, "ought one not to be afraid, in reason, to fix one's eyes on any cherished hope ?"

"No," replied the physician, "not eyes such as yours-eyes so holy that they might look into eternity. But see! here come the two so fondly loved. They hail us with gladness in their looks, and make signs that they are bringing us the first flowerets of the spring. Let us hope that the coming summer will bring roses for them and for us."

"Yes," replied the countess, again gazing from the window:

"Time as it speeds on silent wings,

Oft summer's sweetest roses brings."

BY STEAM-BOAT TO SAINT CLOUD.

No matter if the Seine is not salt-and yet why should it not be salted?-its steamers are a precious consolation for the pride that is pained by Paris not being a seaport.

Hence it is that the crowd is always considerable on board of the boats that perform the journey from the Pont Royal to the Pont de St. Cloud. The packet itself on these stirring occasions testifies by the hiccupping of its boiler how weary it is of the hawser that fastens it to the shore. A jack-tar, who, when he is at home, dwells probably in a back room, sixth story of the Rue Tirechappe, has been for the last three-quarters of an hour pulling away at a great bell as if he wished to crack the parapets. He never leaves off indeed for a moment, except to answer the inquiries of passengers as to when the boat is likely to start, and for them he has a short and curt response-immediately! Which said, he resumes his soli on the tintinnabulary allegretto.

The crowd in the mean time has so encumbered the deck that there is no longer room for the sparest of opera-dancers. The mariner executes his last peal, and a shudder runs through the contemplative crowd perched on the bridge above as the Arcas weighs her anchor.

"We are off at last!" sighs a citizen.

"Yes, but what was the use of hurrying me, to sit a quarter of an hour in the sun?" retorts a citizeness. "I have broken the bone of my stays." "I do not precisely see," ventures the citizen, in a studious mood, "what sitting a quarter of an hour in the sun has to do with the rupture of a whalebone. Unfortunately I cannot catch a cetaceous animal for you on the spot. Natural history is opposed to it. Tintin, do not go too near to the bulwarks, or you may tumble into the water."

"Unfortunate Tintin! He is lost!" exclaims a jocose traveller close by.

"Heavens!" shouts the citizen.

"Pooh! one child more or less," perseveres the joker.

Sir, Tintin is not one child more or less; he is my son, the hope of my race. Polymnia, pay attention; we are about to pass under the Pont de la Concorde. It was formerly called the Bridge of the Revolution, because it was erected in the time of Louis XV."

"We have a bridge much better built than that in our sub-prefecture," interpolates a provincial.

"Look out for smoke!" shouts the bell-ringing mariner, as he lets down the funnel, and the passengers are swept out of sight by the dense cloud that envelops them.

"Allow me, madame, to make a rampart for you with my body," observes an obsequious passenger.

"That gentleman is really very polite," the citizeness remarks to her husband, when she has recovered from the shock.

"The Bridge of Jena! Tintin," continues the citizen, " do not forget. that this is the bridge which the allies wanted to blow up at the time of our sad reverses. The reminiscence will not fail to awaken patriotic emotions in your bosom. Blücher had just entered into Paris"

"Papa, do they sell gingerbread on board the boat? I should like a slice," interrupted the juvenile excursionist.

"This is the Champ de Mars, my son. Magnificent spot, consecrated to the manœuvres of our valiant soldiers. It was enlarged in 1848 by the national workshops."

"Pooh!" sneered the provincial. "There is a plain for manoeuvres in our sub-prefecture that is twice the size of that!"

"Look, sweetheart," a beardless youth, seated by a sylph of the Rue Montmartre, ventures to break silence with. "That is the island of Grenelle; it appears to me to-day like an oasis. The chimneys of those factories of oil-cloth have in them something ideal. I could find poetry even in chemistry. And all because thou art near me, bringing sunshine to my heart."

"Ah!" simpers the sylph; then, turning aside: "How stupid he is with his sentimental rubbish. A rat that would not even buy me an hidalgo hat to come out into the country."

"Why, it is raining!" screams the citizeness. "What, with such a sun!" interrupts the citizen. sible. The laws of nature are opposed to it."

"Oh no.

serves the lady.

"That is impos

It is the paddles that are scattering the brine over me,” ob

"Permit me, madame, to shield you from the obnoxious waves," interpolates the polite excursionist.

"That gentleman is really charming," observes the lady, sotto voce, but loud enough to be overheard.

"Tintin, to the left you have the plain of Grenelle, where General Mallet was shot. Repeat, Tintin: Who was shot on the plain of Grenelle ?" "How should I know ?" retorts the promising youth. "There is no gingerbread on board."

"Pour ton amour, ma blanche Marguerite,

Je donnerais ma couronne de roi!"

is now sung by an artist who accompanies himself on the guitar to charm the passengers on board the Arcas, and to whom he afterwards holds out his hat for as many sous as it pleases them to disburse.

"Yes, dearest! He is in the right. My crown as a king. I, too, would give it, if I had one," ejaculates the enthusiastic lover.

"No doubt of it! (Aside.) A chap who won't even stand a pair of boots."

"Tintin, the guitar is an instrument, the origin of which is lost in the obscurity of time. Repeat, Tintin: What is the origin of the guitar lost in?"

"How I should like to be away from this crowd," persists the lover; "the presence of so many interferes with my happiness."

"Thank you! (Aside.) I will have no tête-à-têtes, except at table. When he is eating he can't repeat his elegies."

"Tintin! Come here to me, and I will explain to you the theory of the steam-engine. That machine, my son, was invented by one Fulton, a neglected genius, who perished in obscurity in London, as your father may do, Tintin, and yet he might have been a great man, if nature had only conferred upon him the necessary faculties.

66

Papa, I am thirsty !" observes the youthful Tintin.

"Fulton made an offer of his machine to Napoleon, but, notwithstanding his great talents, he did not appreciate the sublime discovery. Ah! if it had been me!"

"Pooh!" broke in the provincial. "We have a steam-boat on the river in our sub-prefecture, the machine of which is three times as large as that."

"What is that dark object down there," observes the citizeness, "at the level of the water? It must be a rock! I told you, Monsieur Rabinois, that it was dangerous to trust our persons to

"Do not be afraid, my good lady," the polite traveller remarks; "there are no rocks in this peaceful river, and I regret it, for nothing would have given greater pleasure than to have saved you from a peril."

"You are too kind, sir."

"Tintin, to the left is the viaduct of the Western Railway. Viaducts are of ancient origin. The Romans made use of them. Repeat!" "Repeat what? The Western Railway is very ancient; the Romans made use of it?"

"Tantalising little fellow !"

"Pooh! there is a viaduct in our sub-prefecture," observes the provincial, "rather different from that. It is two leagues in length, and so solid

"Dearest! you are pensive. Thinking of he who loves you with all the force of his