fascinating by its intermittent murmuring. This spot the Duchess loved
well, and many hours of the day she spent here.

Scarcely a hundred feet distant, there stood a willow tree closely
resembling the late home of the caged nightingales. The boy had chosen
this tree and had prepared a place for the nest on a forked branch. He
went there late one evening, as the moon was shining brightly, and
placed the nest securely on this tree; then he gave the parent birds
their freedom.

The next morning, the boy returned to the spot and hid himself in the
thick shrubbery, to see whether the birds would feed their young, who
were loudly crying for food. In a little while the parent birds returned
and fed them.

"Now I have triumphed," said Michael; and he hurried to the villa to
carry to Alfred the welcome news that in a few days the nightingales
would be singing their song in his garden.

"Fine," said Alfred, "and then the money will be yours. Stay a few days
longer and you can take it with you."

Two days later, the Duchess invited her friends to a lawn-party. The sun
had risen in all its glory, the sky was unclouded, and the breezes were
light and refreshing. The garden, with all its natural beauty, afforded
a most entrancing spot for the feast, which proved perfect in every
detail and was enjoyed in full measure.

After the guests had departed, the Duchess said to her children, "Let us
spend this delightful twilight hour here in quiet. My soul is satisfied;