She inquired of Felix Beaudoin of her brother. The old majordomo, with a significant look, informed her that Monsieur Le Gardeur had just ordered his horse to ride to the village. He had first called for a decanter of Cognac, and when it was brought to him he suddenly thrust it back and would not taste it. “He would not drink even Jove's nectar in the Manor House, he said; but would go down to the village, where Satan mixed the drink for thirsty souls like his! Poor Le Gardeur!” continued Felix, “you must not let him go to the village this morning, mademoiselle!” Amélie was startled at this information. She hastened at once to seek her brother, whom she found walking impatiently in the garden, slashing the heads off the poppies and dahlias within reach of his riding-whip. He was equipped for a ride, and waited the coming of the groom with his horse. Amélie ran up, and clasping his arms with both hands as she looked up in his face with a smile, exclaimed, “Do not go to the village yet, Le Gardeur! Wait for us!” “Not go to the village yet, Amélie?” replied he; “why not? I shall return for breakfast, although I have no appetite. I thought a ride to the village would give me one.” “Wait until after breakfast, brother, when we will all go with you to meet our friends who come this morning to Tilly,--our cousin Héloise de Lotbinière is coming to see you and Pierre Philibert; you must be there to welcome her,--gallants are too scarce to allow her to spare the handsomest of all, my own brother!” Amélie divined truly from Le Gardeur's restless eyes and haggard look that a fierce conflict was going on in his breast between duty and desire,--whether he should remain at home, or go to the village to plunge again into the sea of dissipation out of which he had just been drawn to land half-drowned and utterly desperate. Amélie resolved not to leave his side, but to cleave to him, and inch by inch to fight the demons which possessed him until she got the victory. Le Gardeur looked fondly in the face of Amélie. He read her thoughts, and was very conscious why she wished him not to go to the village. His feelings gave way before her love and tenderness. He suddenly embraced her and kissed her cheeks, while the tears stood welling in his eyes. “I am not worthy of you, Amélie,” said he; “so much sisterly care is lost on me!” “Oh, say not that, brother,” replied she, kissing him fondly in return. “I would give my life to save you, O my brother!” Amélie was greatly moved, and for a time unable to speak further; she laid her head on his shoulder, and sobbed audibly. Her love gained the victory where remonstrance and opposition would have lost it.