dreary passionate pity for the unconscious orphan, but with a growing
purpose to bring him up as his father's special charge,--nay, as that
from even a greater and nearer than my Philippe.

While, as we journeyed on, I gradually dwelt less on how piteous my
arrival would be for myself, and thought more and more of its sadness
for the poor old Marquis who had loved his nephew so much, till,
instead of merely fearing to reach Nid de Merle, I began to look
forward to it, and consider how to comfort the poor old man; for had
not my husband begged me to be the staff of his old age, and to fill
a daughter's place to him?




CHAPTER VII.

WIDOW AND WIFE



We had avoided Paris, coming through Troyes and Orleans, and thus our
sad strange journey lasted a full month. Poor old M. de Nidemerle
had, of course, been prepared for our coming, and he came out in his
coach to meet us at the cross-roads. My brother saw the mourning
liveries approaching, and gave me notice. I descended from my
carriage, intending to go to him in his, but he anticipated me; and
there, in the middle of the road, the poor old man embraced me,
weeping floods of passionate tears of grief. He was a small man,
shrunk with age, and I found him clinging to me so like a child that