“Never blush for such a trifle as that! ‘My dear Raoul,’ we will say — ’You implore me to write you at Paris, where you are detained by your attendance on M. le Prince. As you must be very dull there, to seek for amusement in the remembrance of aprovinciale — ’“

Louise rose up suddenly. “No, Montalais,” said she, with a smile; “I don’t think a word of that. Look, this is what I think;” and she seized the pen boldly, and traced, with a firm hand, the following words:

“I should have been very unhappy if your entreaties to obtain a remembrance of me had been less warm. Everything here reminds me of our early days, which so quickly passed away, which so delightfully flew by, that no others will ever replace the charm of them in my heart.”