those companions who followed William the Conquerer to the field of Hastings. But just now the steely eyes were dim with tender fears, and the severe mouth was tremulous with loving words; and the hand fit to wield a battle-axe was clasped in timid constraint over the tiny fingers of the Provençal girl, as he slowly answered:—
"Because, if you do not love me, and love me always, you will be the misfortune of my life."
"What, I, little I? I who can never learn the fine things you and the abbé try to teach me? Little frivolous, childish I, who am fit for nothing but to play with El Moro, and pelt Mademoiselle Salerne with roses, and tease old Marie's life out, and sing chansons to my guitar, and"—
"And make the joy of my poor life, Valerie."
"I again? What! poor little I, the present joy and possible misfortune of life to so very grave and learned a youth as François, le Baron de"—
"François, the lover of Valerie!" interposed the young baron, catching in his own the other little hand, and covering them both with kisses, beneath whose breath a dusky crimson crept slowly up into the girl's cheek, and lighted its pallor as fire shows through cream-white porcelain.
"Mamzelle! Mamzelle Valerie! Ma petite! where, then, do you hide? Answer, for the love of the Virgin! Mamzelle, I say!"
"Now what does Marie want, do you suppose?" exclaimed Marie's nursling, in a tone of comic vexation. "Has she found another egg in my canary-
