“Guess?” said Rose, contemptuously. “As if I did not see it was to put on your gray silk.” Josephine smiled assent, and said almost with fervor, “Good Raynal! I feel prouder of his honest name than of our noble one. And I am so calm, dear, thanks to you, so tranquil; so pleased that my mother’s mind is at rest, so convinced all is for the best, so contented with my own lot; so hap--py.” A gentle tear stole from beneath her long lashes. Rose looked at her wistfully: then laid her cheek to hers. They leaned back hand in hand, placid and silent. The carriage glided fast. Beaurepaire was almost in sight. Suddenly Josephine’s hand tightened on Rose’s, and she sat up in the carriage like a person awakened from a strange dream. “What is it?” asked Rose. “Some one in uniform.” “Oh, is that all? Ah! you thought it was a message from Raynal.” “Oh! no! on foot--walking very slowly. Coming this way, too. Coming this way!” and she became singularly restless, and looked round in the carriage. It was one of those old chariots with no side windows, but a peep hole at the back. This aperture, however, had a flap over it. Josephine undid the flap with nimble though agitated fingers; and saw--nothing. The road had taken a turn. “Oh,” said Rose, carelessly, “for that matter the roads are full of soldiers just now.” “Ay, but not of officers on foot.” Rose gave her such a look, and for the first time this many a day spoke sternly to her, and asked her what on earth she had to do with uniforms or officers except one, the noblest in the world, her husband. A month ago that word was almost indifferent to Josephine, or rather she uttered it with a sort of mild complacency. Now she started at it, and it struck chill upon her. She did not reply, however, and the carriage rolled on. “He seemed to be dragging himself along.” This was the first word Josephine had spoken for some time. “Oh, did he?” replied Rose carelessly; “well, let him. Here we are, at home.” “I am glad of it,” said Josephine, “very glad.” On reaching Beaurepaire she wanted to go up-stairs at once and put on her gray gown. But the day was so delightful that Rose begged her to stroll in the Pleasaunce for half an hour and watch for their mother’s return. She consented in an absent way, and presently began to walk very fast, unconscious of her companion. Rose laid a hand upon her playfully to moderate her, and found her skin burning. “Why, what is the matter?” said she, anxiously. “Nothing, nothing,” was the sharp reply. “There’s a fretful tone; and how excited you look, and feel too. Well, I thought you were unnaturally calm after such an event.” “I only saw his back,” said Josephine. “Did not you see him?” “See who? Oh, that tiresome officer. Why, how much more are we to hear about him? I don’t believe there WAS one.” At this moment a cocked hat came in sight, bobbing up and down above the palings that divided the park from the road. Josephine pointed to it without a word.