A BLIGHT UPON THE ROSES.
AS the master of the house thus publicly proclaimed his discontent with his reception, a small tumult of defence arose from the parties accused. The abbé, a handsome young priest, whom François had for a considerable period governed as he would, bowed humbly and exclaimed,—
"Pardon, a thousand pardons, monsieur, but"—while Mademoiselle Salerne the governess, an equally good-looking young woman with whom Valerie seldom had any trouble since she had clearly established their relative positions, clasped both hands, bent her knee as if about to prostrate herself, and shrieked,—
"But can monsieur suspect me of neglect of duty! Me! Oh, no, no! never, it can never be; for mademoiselle will explain, that we had but just now finished our lessons, and"—
"Of course, Salerne," interposed Valerie, with good-humored contempt,—"of course monsieur understands that you are all which is faithful and trustworthy; and if I am idle, and like to rest in the garden rather than to work in the house, it is my own fault."
"Or mine, since I asked you to come out this after-
