Luc.
"Well, Amelie, blessed are they who do not promise and still
perform. I must try and meet my dear boy, so do not quite place me
among the impossibles. Good-by, my Lady. Good-by, Amelie." The
old soldier gaily kissed his hand and rode away.
Amelie was thoroughly surprised and agitated out of all composure by
the news of the return of Pierre Philibert. She turned aside from
the busy throng that surrounded her, leaving her aunt engaged in
eager conversation with the Bishop and Father de Berey. She sat
down in a quiet embrasure of the wall, and with one hand resting her
drooping cheek, a train of reminiscences flew across her mind like a
flight of pure doves suddenly startled out of a thicket.
She remembered vividly Pierre Philibert, the friend and fellow-
student of her brother: he spent so many of his holidays at the old
Manor-House of Tilly, when she, a still younger girl, shared their
sports, wove chaplets of flowers for them, or on her shaggy pony
rode with them on many a scamper through the wild woods of the
Seigniory.
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