“Oh, Le Gardeur!” cried she, returning his kiss with fond affection, and looking in his face with tenderness and joy. “O my brother, how I have prayed and longed for your coming. Thank God! you are here at last. You are well, brother, are you not?” said she, looking up with a glance that seemed to betray some anxiety. “Never better, Amélie,” replied he, in a gayer tone than was quite natural to him, and shyly averting his eyes from her tender scrutiny. “Never better. Why, if I had been in my grave, I should have risen up to welcome a friend whom I have met to-day after years of separation. Oh, Amélie, I have such news for you!” “News for me, Le Gardeur! What can it be?” A blush stole over her countenance, and her bosom heaved, for she was very conscious of the nature of the news her brother was about to impart. “Guess! you unsuspecting queen of shepherdesses,” cried he, archly twisting a lock of her hair that hung over her shoulder. “Guess, you pretty gipsy, you!” “Guess? How can I guess, Le Gardeur? Can there be any news left in the city of Quebec after an hour's visit from Madame de Grandmaison and Madame Couillard? I did not go down, but I know they inquired much after you, by the way!” Amélie, with a little touch of feminine perversity, shyly put off the grand burst of Le Gardeur's intelligence, knowing it was sure to come. “Pshaw! who cares for those old scandal-mongers! But you can never guess my news, Amélie, so I may as well tell you.” Le Gardeur fairly swelled with the announcement he was about to make. “Have mercy then, brother, and tell me at once, for you do now set my curiosity on tiptoe.” She was a true woman, and would not for anything have admitted her knowledge of the presence of Colonel Philibert in the house. “Amélie,” said he, taking her by both hands, as if to prevent her escape, “I was at Beaumanoir--you know the Intendant gave a grand hunting party,” added he, noticing the quick glance she gave him; “and who do you think came to the Château and recognized me, or rather I recognized him? A stranger--and not such a stranger, either Amélie.” “Nay; go on, brother! Who could this mysterious stranger and no stranger have been?” “Pierre Philibert, Amélie! Pierre--our Pierre, you know! You recollect him, sister!” “Recollect Pierre Philibert? Why, how could I ever forget him while you are living? since to him we are all indebted for your life, brother!” “I know that; are you not glad, as I am, at his return?” asked Le Gardeur, with a penetrating look. She threw her arms round him involuntarily, for she was much agitated. “Glad, brother? Yes, I am glad because you are glad.” “No more than that, Amélie? That is a small thing to be glad for.” “Oh, brother! I am glad for gladness's sake! We can never overpay the debt of gratitude we owe Pierre Philibert.” “O my sweet sister,” replied he, kissing her, “I knew my news would please you. Come, we will go down and see him at once, for Pierre is in the house.”