“It is but a plain duty, my uncle; a soldier belongs to his country. It is an honor that du Chesne should have been selected. The men adore him; there is no one who has as much influence with them as he. How proud we all shall be when he returns covered with glory.” The liquid voice, speaking in tones of deepest compassion and tenderness, penetrated to the core of the man’s scheming, worldly nature. “Certainly times may change, my rabbit. Before now we have been reduced to extremities, and have found deliverance. It may happen so again. Whichever way it goes, there is nothing to be done but make the best of it.” Saying this, Le Ber shrugged his shoulders with resigned emphasis, though there were strange nervous twitches about his firm lips. Diane was so young, so buoyant in her hopes, so high-spirited and high-hearted, that neither fear nor shadow of disaster could easily crush her. This was a time of trial, to be lived through as best they could, but it seemed positive that, after all, things must go well. With the sweet agitation of hope and delight dancing in her veins, she felt only elation from the excitement around her. The spectacle of a courage absolutely free from egotism was too common among the devoted Canadian women of the day to attract much attention. Yet it was with some surprise that those about saw Mademoiselle de Monesthrol throwing off the dainty air of stateliness which was considered becoming to her station, and growing sweet and womanly in the glory of self-sacrifice. It was difficult to identify the proud and capricious beauty with the gentle girl whose watchful eye and helpful hand were at the service of all, who in a frank, generous fashion dealt out cheer and sympathy to whoever chanced to need it. “This is a change I scarcely expected, a new development,” mused the Marquise, always critical and philosophical. “Well, the little one comes of a race born brave and generous.” For an instant the keen eyes softened, the delicate features quivered, warm waves of memory rolled over the proud woman’s soul. * * * * * “Diane, I must talk with you. I can trust you entirely.” Du Chesne spoke eagerly. A hot wave of color swept over the girl’s face, but she raised her eyes frankly to the young man’s.