Amelie was very beautiful to-day. Her face was aglow with pure air
and exercise, and she felt happy in the apparent contentment of her
brother, whom she met with Pierre on the broad terrace of the Manor
House.
She was dressed with exquisite neatness, yet plainly. An antique
cross of gold formed her only adornment except her own charms. That
cross she had put on in honor of Pierre Philibert. He recognized it
with delight as a birthday gift to Amelie which he had himself given
her during their days of juvenile companionship, on one of his
holiday visits to Tilly.
She was conscious of his recognition of it,--it brought a flush to
her cheek. "It is in honor of your visit, Pierre," said she,
frankly, "that I wear your gift. Old friendship lasts well with me,
does it not? But you will find more old friends than me at Tilly
who have not forgotten you."
"I am already richer than Croesus, if friendship count as riches,
Amelie. The hare had many friends, but none at last; I am more
fortunate in possessing one friend worth a million.
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