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Rh your tragic air, and your 'Promise, promise!' Who speaks of marrying anybody? See, your father is already frowning at you; hold up your head, and look like a man instead of a schoolboy. How handsome Gaston has grown!"

"Frivolous and trifling!" muttered François bitterly, and he dropped a step behind his companion, who ran eagerly forward, both hands extended, eyes and lips bright with smiles, exclaiming joyfully,—

"Ah, monsieur my god-papa, how glad we are to receive you! Monsieur Gaston also! But why did not you let us know that you were coming? We would have received you more worthily."

"Truth to tell, mademoiselle," replied the count, whose brow showed a decided cloud, "the château seems but carelessly kept, considering it holds so rare a treasure as yourself. I found Monsieur l'Abbé Despard, my son's tutor, confessing Mademoiselle Salerne, my ward's governess, while their two charges were hidden,—who knows where?"