to one another, for we shall have a long and troublesome, if not
dangerous journey, both before and after we have met M. le Comte."'

Estelle here nodded her head with a certain satisfaction, while the
nurse replied -

'And what other answer could the son of your father make--Heavens be
his bed--that was shot through the head by the masther's side in the
weary wars in Spain? and whom could ye be bound to serve barring Master
Phelim, that's lain in the same cradle with yees--'

'Is not Victorine here, mother?' still restlessly demanded Lanty.

'Never you heed Victorine,' replied she. 'Sure she may have a little
arrand of her own, and ye might have a word for the old mother that
never parted with you before.'

'You not going, mother!' he exclaimed.

''Tis my heart that will go with you and Masther Phelim, my jewel; but
Madame la Comtesse will have it that this weeny little darlint'--
caressing the child in her lap--'could never bear the cold of that bare
and dissolute place in the north you are bound for, and old Madame la
Marquise, her mother, would be mad entirely if all the children left
her; but our own lady can't quit the little one without leaving his own
nurse Honor with him!'

'That's news to me intirely, mother,' said Lanty; 'bad luck to it!'

Honor laughed that half-proud, half-sad laugh of mothers when their