"Your voice is very gentle," said he, after a pause, "and that," he added, with a slight sigh, "is the criterion by which I only know the young and the beautiful." Lucille now blushed, and with a slight mixture of pain in the blush, for she knew well that to beauty she had no pretension. "Are you a native of this town?" continued he. "Yes, sir; my father holds a small office in the customs, and my mother and I eke out his salary by making lace. We are called poor, but we do not feel it, sir." "You are fortunate: there is no wealth like the heart's wealth, content," answered the blind man mournfully. "And Monsieur," said Lucille, feeling angry with herself that she had awakened a natural envy in the stranger's mind, and anxious to change the subject--"and Monsieur, has he been long at Malines?" "But yesterday. I am passing through the Low Countries on a tour; perhaps you smile at the tour of a blind man--but it is wearisome even to the blind to rest always in the same place. I thought during church time, when the streets were empty, that I might, by the help of my dog, enjoy safely, at least the air, if not the sight of the town; but there are some persons, methinks, who cannot even have a dog for a friend." The blind man spoke bitterly,--the desertion of his dog had touched him to the core. Lucille wiped her eyes. "And does Monsieur travel then alone?" said she; and looking at his face more attentively than she had yet ventured to do, she saw that he was scarcely above two-and-twenty. "His father, his _mother_," she added, with an emphasis on the last word, "are they not with him?" "I am an orphan," answered the stranger; "and I have neither brother nor sister." The desolate condition of the blind man quite melted Lucille; never had she been so strongly affected. She felt a strange flutter at the heart--a secret and earnest sympathy, that attracted her at once towards him. She wished that heaven had suffered her to be his sister. The contrast between the youth and the form of the stranger, and the affliction which took hope from the one, and activity from the other, increased the compassion he excited. His features were remarkably regular, and had a certain nobleness in their outline; and his frame was gracefully and firmly knit, though he moved cautiously and with no cheerful step. They had now passed into a narrow street leading towards the hotel, when they heard behind them the clatter of hoofs; and Lucille, looking hastily back, saw that a troop of the Belgian horse was passing thro' town.