they were betrothed, Madeline's beauty, simplicity and goodness had made her admired by many. "Poor Madeline," everybody said, instinctively.
A number of persons was now in the front room of the house, where she lay in her shroud of spotless white. The mother and father of Joseph had come; and with their deep sympathy they tried to comfort those in bereavement. They hardly dared to think what the news would mean to their son, who had long ago confided his love to them.
"I am going to find Monsieur, and give him the letter," said Irène.
Just then Monsieur Le Blanc came, and the letter was read to him.
"The arrangements are already made. We shall bury our child this afternoon," he said, “We shall take her to the chapel at four o'clock."
"I wish Joseph could have seen her once more," said the mother of the young soldier.
"It is impossible. Who knows where he is!" responded Monsieur Le Blanc.
"How are we to let him know?" asked the lad's father. "For such a journey,
