Giraud, as we have said, was seated in his office, and alone. But presently there arrived visiters—the Sieur De Pontis, and the fair heroine, Marguerite. Congratulations and thanks exhausted, business recited and discussed, there ensued a pause—their hearts were full. “There are but three here,” said Giraud, looking archly at Marguerite, “I should wish to see a fourth. There is a friend, Monsieur De Pontis, who has wonderfully aided our endeavors for your release, and to whom we owe many thanks. Shall we never see the unknown’s face?” “Marguerite has my sanction to introduce him to Monsieur Giraud whenever she pleases,” said the veteran. “Hah! then I have been forestalled in her confidence,” cried the advocate, “but I did not deserve the neglect!” The day subsequent to the liberation of De Pontis, Louis was promenading alone his customary path in the garden of the Tuileries. The old soldier presented himself—he bent his knee to majesty. “Rise, my good friend,” said the monarch, “I hear you have been better served than Louis could have wrought for you, though he had not forgotten his word, or his old servant.” After a few remarks, the king complimented him on the perseverance and heroism of Marguerite adding that she was deserving of all honor. “With your majesty’s permission, I believe I am about to marry her,” remarked De Pontis. “To whom? I hope to a subject of mine!” exclaimed the monarch. “François De Romainville, if it please your majesty,” replied the veteran. “I know the youth,” said Louis, “our cardinal’s page, of good lineage, though accounted wild and reckless—the cardinal complains of his habits, but loves the page’s intelligence and capacity. We must see what can be done for this youth, also for Monsieur Giraud when the opportunity offers.” He might have added, “when the cardinal permits,” thought the veteran, with a sigh. “For yourself, De Pontis,” continued the royal personage, “I hope all will go well in future.” “I intend to put it out of fortune’s power to do me further harm,” answered the _militaire_—“your majesty’s late bounty I shall settle on my daughter and her husband; for, though I hope a true man in the tented field, yet I do believe that, whether from my own fault, or an unlucky destiny, I should lose, or mismanage the fairest estate in your realm.” At that moment, the cardinal and his suite were seen in the distance—the countenance of Louis fell, and De Pontis taking hasty leave—much to the royal satisfaction—glided through a side-walk. * * * * * MY MOTHER—A DREAM. BY MRS. BALMANNO. Oh mother! sacred! dear! in dreams of thee, I sat, again a child, beside thy knee, Nestling amidst thy robe delightedly! And all was silent in the sunny room, Save bees that humm’d o’er honeysuckle bloom.