of perfect simplicity, "and my mother sang in the chorus. My father,
who was leader of the figures on the stage, happened to be present at
the siege of the Bastille. He was recognized by some of the
assailants, who asked him whether he could not lead a real attack,
since he was used to leading such enterprises on the boards. My father
was brave; he accepted the post, led the insurgents, and was rewarded
by the nomination to the rank of captain in the army of Sambre-et-Meuse,
where he distinguished himself so far as to rise rapidly to be a
colonel. But at Lutzen he was so badly wounded that, after a year's
sufferings, he died in Paris.--The Bourbons returned; my mother could
obtain no pension, and we fell into such abject misery that we were
compelled to work for our living. For some time past she has been
ailing, poor dear, and I have never known her so little resigned; she
complains a good deal, and, indeed, I cannot wonder, for she has known
the pleasures of an easy life. For my part, I cannot pine for delights
I have never known, I have but one thing to wish for."

"And that is?" said Roger eagerly, as if roused from a dream.

"That women may continue to wear embroidered net dresses, so that I
may never lack work."

The frankness of this confession interested the young man, who looked
with less hostile eyes on Madame Crochard as she slowly made her way
back to them.

"Well, children, have you had a long talk?" said she, with a
half-laughing, half-indulgent air. "When I think, Monsieur Roger, that
the 'little Corporal' has sat where you are sitting," she went on after
a pause. "Poor man! how my husband worshiped him! Ah! Crochard did well