Julie, who was still in mourning for her father-in-law, went to Sèvres to pass the rest of the summer. Sèvres is a Norman oasis within two leagues of Paris. The apple-trees give it a rural savor, and the hills, covered with lovely rustic gardens, were at that time quite as charming and more unconventional than to-day. I must not, however, speak slightingly of the lovely villas of Sèvres as it now is, with their magnificent shade trees and the picturesque inequalities of the region through which the river boldly cuts its way. The railroad has not altogether dispelled the poesy of that wooded spot, and it is not unpleasant to be able to reach, in a quarter of an hour, the grass-grown paths and fields sloping to the water's edge. From the top of the hill one can distinguish Paris, an imposing silhouette against the blue sky, through the clumps of trees in the foreground; three steps away, in the bottom of the ravine, one can lose sight of the great city, turn away from the too white villas, and lose oneself in the genuine country, still unspoiled, although a bit _rococo_, and always lovely with flowers. There Julie recovered her health, which was seriously impaired for some time, and before as after their marriage, Julien was all in all to her, as she was all in all to him. What society said and thought of their union, they did not care to know. Their real friends sufficed for them, and Madame Thierry was the happiest of mothers. Their happiness was disturbed, it is true, by the political tempests, the approach of which Julien had watched with no idea that they would be so swift and so radical. Having a clear conscience and a generous heart, he made himself very useful in his neighborhood by the pains which he took to relieve want, and to prevent it, so far as he could, from urging its victims on to deplorable acts of violence. For a long time he exerted great influence over the workmen in the factory at Sèvres, and in the faubourg which surrounded the hôtel D'Estrelle. On some days he was well-nigh overwhelmed; but nothing could induce him to do anything which his conscience disapproved, and he was threatened in his turn and was very near being suspected. The firmness with which he faced suspicion, the generous personal sacrifices he had made, the confidence he displayed in the midst of danger, saved him. Julie was as brave as he. The timid woman was transformed; she felt that her soul had developed and been tempered anew in its fusion, brought about by love, with a fearless and upright soul. Her heart was torn, doubtless, when several of her old friends were struck down by the Revolution, despite all Julien's efforts to rescue them. She succeeded in saving some of them by judicious advice and prudent measures. She concealed two in her own house; but she was unable to save the Baronne d'Ancourt, who ruined herself by her excessive fright and underwent a most rigorous captivity.