It was indeed, and my eyes wandered from one group to another, till they were suddenly arrested by a sight which for a moment almost made my blood stand still. Was it my father himself, or was it his ghost—that handsome gentleman in the blazing French uniform who stood regarding me with such an eager gaze? Could it be that he had not been killed after all? My eyes grew dim for a moment, and when I looked again the gentleman had disappeared. "What ails you, Vevette?" said my aunt, in alarm. "You are as white as your dress! Gentlemen, make way for us, I beg, my niece is not well." Way was made to a window, and I was placed on a seat while one gentleman brought water and another wine, and ladies proffered essence bottles, and vinaigrettes. I recovered myself with a great effort, for I was quite ashamed of the commotion I had made. However, my aunt would not have me move at once, but took a seat near me, and we were soon surrounded by a circle of gallants. Into this circle presently came my Uncle Charles leading the very gentleman whose resemblance to my father had upset me. It was not so close, now that I saw him near, though it was still very striking. I saw that he was older than my father, and instantly guessed who he was before my Uncle Charles presented him. It was my father's oldest brother, the Marquis de Fayrolles. "And this is my niece," said he, in a tone of great affection, as he bent over me and took my hand. "My dear Genevieve, I am more delighted than I can express at this meeting. I supposed from what I heard that you and your poor mother had perished in your attempt to escape from the sack of the Tour d'Antin. I came down the next day but one, too late to save the life of my unfortunate brother, but not too late, I am glad to tell you, to do justice to his murderers." Then my uncle had come to our rescue after all. This was the conclusion I jumped to. I made my return to his salutation, and inquired after Madame La Marquise. "She is not at all well, I regret to say," was the reply. "I begin to fear the climate of England does not agree with her. I hope to make you acquainted with her another day. This is not the place for family affairs, so I trust you, madame," bowing profoundly to Aunt Jem, "will allow our kinswoman to visit my wife to-morrow." My aunt at once assented, and the marquis chatted on easily in French about the court, the parks, and all those little nothings which make up talk in such places. He led my aunt and myself to the supper table, and placed himself between us, paying us every attention. It was impossible to withstand his manner, which had all my father's heartiness with the grace which can only be acquired by habitual converse with the best society.