"Bless her, my father; for you can now judge if I told you false when I said she was worthy of your blessing. The dear golden tongue has spoken well, and there is no answer to make to it, unless it be that we want neither year nor day of trial, but desire to go this very evening and ask her of her grandfather; for to pass another night still doubtful of his consent is more than I can bear, and to get it is all I need to make me sovereign of the world." "See what has happened to you by asking for a respite," said Père Bastien to Brulette. "Instead of asking your grandfather to-morrow, it seems it must be to-night. Come, my child, you must submit; it is the punishment of your naughty conduct in times gone by." Contentment overspread her sweet face, and the hurt she had received from Joseph was forgotten. However, just as we left the table, another hesitation seized her. Charlot, hearing Huriel address the Head-Woodsman as father, called him so himself, and was kissed and fondled for it, but Brulette was a trifle vexed. "Wouldn't it be best," she said, "to take the trouble to invent parents for the poor child; every time he calls me mother it seems like a stab to those I love." We were beginning to reassure her on this point when Thérence said: "Speak low; some one is listening to us;" and following her glance toward the porch, we saw the end of a stick resting on the ground, and the bulging side of a full sack, showing that a beggar was there, waiting till some one took notice of him, and hearing things that he ought not to hear. I went up to the intruder and recognized Brother Nicolas, who came forward at once and admitted without hesitation that he had been listening for the last quarter of an hour, and had been very well pleased with what he had heard. "I thought I knew Huriel's voice," he said, "but I so little expected to find him on my rounds that I should not have been certain, my dear friends, that it was he, but for some things which you have been saying, in which, as Brulette knows, I have a right to intrude." "We know it too," said Huriel. "Do you?" exclaimed the monk. "Well, that's as it should be." "And the reason is," said Huriel to Brulette, "that your aunt told me everything last night. So you see, dearest, I don't deserve all the credit you give me." "Yes," said Brulette, much comforted, "but yesterday morning! Well, since everything is known," she added, turning to the monk, "what do you advise me to do, Brother Nicolas? You have been employed on Charlot's account; can't you find some story to spread about to cover the secret of his parentage and repair the harm done to my reputation?"