"I do not envy her," said Constance laughing, "if her choice has fallen upon the old gentleman we met with the only time we were at her father's house last winter, and who was presented to us as the Baron Von Griffe. I remember on that occasion having heard him spoken of, as a person of immense fortune but intolerably penurious, with a constitution of iron yet making his infirmities a pretext for avoiding the duties and pleasures of society. A union with such a person, even with all his millions, could hardly promote the happiness of a young lady."

"Ah," said Mr. Melville, smiling, "I see you are all jealous of Miss Belmont's success. The Baroness Von Griffe will doubtless be the leader of ton in the aristocratie financière, at least; she will be the star of the Chausée d'Antin. Her millions will insure her the position."

"Qu'elle les garde!" said Evelyn laughing, "we are neither jealous nor envious."

Thus flew on the joyous evening, and it drew to a close too quickly for that happy and united family. It ended, as such days should always end, in deep thankfulness, sincerely felt and fervently expressed to the author of every good and perfect gift.

CHAPTER XXXV.

LOVE'S GIFTS.

Ar an early and rather unceremonious hour one morning, the young Comte de Beaumanoir with his beautiful fiancée, Beatrice, had called to be presented by Constance to her brother and sister.

During their visit, a tender little scene had been carried on aside between Constance and her friend, relative to two tokens manifesting their sympathy with each other in approaching events, and which had been exchanged that morning;-the one a veil of exquisite lace accompanied by a wreath, in which orange blossoms predominated over the rest of the flowers of which it was composed, and the other a jewelled bracelet of finished workmanship.

The fancy of Beatrice for sending the bridal veil as her souvenir to her friend, had arisen from her frequent contemplation of the ingenious productions of modern art, where the veil only gives a more mysterious beauty to the delicately chiselled features beneath. The exquisite bracelet which Constance had selected as her gift, she naturally associated with the

symmetrical arm of her friend,-that arm which had already served an accomplished sculptor for a model.

The thought had been unpremeditated; and the beautiful gifts of equal value and elegance, received at the same instant by both the friends from the messengers who had passed each other, occasioned a pleasant surprise, and awakened fresh emotions of tenderness in their young hearts.

Reginald had already paid his usual daily visit, and Constance remained in pleasing meditation, her arm resting on the table near which she was seated, and scanning with interest and curiosity the Arabic characters embroidered on a scarf of delicate and singular beauty which he had twined around that arm. He had told her that the sorceress who could read those mysterious characters had expressed a fervent wish to see her; and fearing some mistake, she had requested that she might be allowed to identify the lady of his love by seeing that token on her arm.

Within the hour of appointment the fair sibyl appeared. The gentle nun glided into the room so noiselessly that Constance was hardly aware of her presence, until she approached her nearly. She paused for a moment, and raised her dark eyes to the face of the lovely girl who stood in blushing surprise at her earnest scrutiny.

Apparently the perusal of that face and form awakened emotions of sensibility and kindness, for tears stood in her gazelle-like eyes.

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"Lady!" she said in a low and musical voice, you will pardon my wish to look on that beautiful face. It is, I trust, the fair index of a heart as pure

and true as that to which it is soon to be united. Withdrawn from the world, I shall never cease to pray for the welfare and happiness of one, who, in saving the being most dear to me from an ignominious death, and rescuing him from the lingering imprisonment threatened even after his life was preserved, is well entitled to those fervent prayers.

"Permit me," she continued, approaching more nearly and presenting a small casket, "permit me to make an offering to his bride. The jewels this casket contains were part of a noble heritage, and may well adorn one, who is ennobled by the devotion of such a heart as that you now may claim as your own.”

She pressed the hand of Constance to her lips and to her brow, and glided from the room as noiselessly as she had entered it.

Half an hour had elapsed, and Reginald found Constance seated at the table where he had left her, the magical scarf still on her arm, and the casket unopened lying near it. Her thoughts had followed the beautiful nun, and were far away from the bridal gift she had so gracefully presented.

Aroused by the return of Reginald from her reverie, she touched the spring of the casket as he entered. To her surprise it contained a diamond necklace of almost priceless value.

"Oh, Reginald!" she exclaimed, "I cannot keep this splendid gift from one almost a stranger to me." "It will be impossible to return it," said Reginald with a sigh, "if it was offered by the former possessor of that scarf, and I now suppose this was partly her motive in her request that you should wear it on your

arm this morning. The fair nun is already on her way to a distant land. Even if it were possible now to seek her out, which it is not, I would not have you give a pang to the noble spirit of Zulema, by refusing her heart-offering, for all the jewels of Golconda. Honor her and her gift then, my own sweet bride," he continued, "as you will, I trust, those which you will permit me to add to hers."

The last visit of the family whose adventures have been related in these pages, before their return to their quiet home, was paid at the château of Neuilly, where the new sovereign held his unostentatious court.

They were received with an unaffected and cordial hospitality. The queen and her lovely daughters were seated around a table, where books and tapestry seemed to have been the sources of their amusement.

"Your Majesty will allow me the privilege of appropriating this needle," said Mrs. Melville, as the queen laid down her work. "I should hardly be believed, if I were to aver that I had seen it in such august hands."

The queen smiled, and placing the emblem of her industry in an envelope, inscribed the words "Souve nir de Neuilly" upon it, and gracefully returned it to Mrs. Melville.

The hour of parting drew near. The sovereign made his adieu as graciously as his noble consort. "The King of France," he said, "as he ought never to remember the injuries of the Duke of Orleans, so assuredly he will never forget his friends."

The queen offered her hand to say farewell. As