manner more effective.

"_Remets-toi Alain, réprends ton haleine, et dis-nous ce que c'est_,"
said she, after paying these quasi-maternal attentions to the fugitive.
"And first tell me, how bears himself my Michael, and what greeting
sends he to his home?"

But before Alain could answer there came a knocking at the gate: and the
scared ladies had barely time to dismiss Le Gallais by a side door
almost hidden in the wainscot before Elliot entered, hat in hand, and
looking shy and breathless in the leaping light of the hearth.

"Pardon me, fair ladies," he stammered, "have you any welcome for an old
friend."

The two women leaned against each other, even more embarrassed than, for
a moment, was their visitor. They seemed to remember the voice, yet
could not speak to much purpose for the beating of their scared pulses.
But it is not easy for female self-love to be deceived. The boy had not
changed so much in turning into man but that the face of an old love
could resume its familiarity.

"'Tis Mr. Elliot," presently said Marguerite, addressing her sister in
English. "Mr. Chevalier, the Centenier, told you of his return but
yesterday when we went to the market at S. Helier. I admire to see him
here so soon."

Rose advanced, with the restored self-possession of a lady on her own
hearth, and gave the visitor her hand. "Welcome back to Jersey, Mr.
Elliot. Time hath dealt kindly with you: you are almost grown to man's