"'Monsieur is a widower and childless. He has a married couple in his vine-covered cottage, who take care of him. They too are past the meridian of life, but they are kind, and attentive, and suit his quiet tastes better than strangers. He once had sons and daughters around him, but they are all lying in the churchyard. He can see their simple monuments without moving from his study-table. Often before I go to rest, I sit at my window, and watch the pretty shadows made by the moon among the boughs waving over their graves. There is nothing sad to me in this; for I know it is only their inanimate bodies which rest there, while their souls are alive and full of bliss in the presence of their Saviour. "'Monsieur D'Ortey is always cheerful, but there is something about him which convinces even a stranger that his happiness springs from a heart chastened and purified in the furnace of affliction, that his treasure is laid up in heaven. The dear man fancies I resemble his youngest daughter; perhaps this is the reason he talks to me so much about the loved circle that once flitted so joyously through his vine-embowered home. "'I have told you so much about him, because I want you to be as well acquainted with his character as he is with yours. He knows, dear auntie, what a kind mother you have been to the daughter of your niece. He knows Fred, that I left my heart away over the sea, and that only a sense of duty to my afflicted brother prevents me at this moment from bearing the name of one I so dearly love. He smiles often as I describe every member of the family, and really laughed yesterday as I repeated some of Sybil's quaint speeches.'" * * * The next steamer brought a continuation of Helen's journal; she began: "'Thank God with us, dear friends, Frank's health is really improving; and what is very favorable, he seems willing to live. I have won him to talk of dear Constance, and Monsieur spoke to-day so cheerfully of his loved ones as only gone before, that I hope Frank will be won to the same view. "'I do believe it was the finger of our heavenly Father that led us to this place. No one could be more kind than dear Monsieur D'Ortey. I, who am often a looker on, sometimes smile to notice with what skill he is interesting our invalid in schemes for usefulness. "'About half a mile from us there is an old building unlike what we ever see at home. It is built near a beautiful spring of water, clear as crystal, which has a peculiar taste, very pleasant, and is used as medicine. It is called la fontaine d'or, or the Golden Spring, and was so named by an American traveller many years ago, from its resemblance to the Golden Spring in Jamaica, West Indies, which is so celebrated for its virtues; and it has retained the name over since, even by the natives, who come a long distance with their buckets or pitchers for the water.